About A Girl
by LeggoMyMeggo92
Summary: Eliza Stark is the kid sister of the infamous Tony Stark, aka Iron Man. Except for being a billionaire she's pretty normal. When aliens invade New York City and a handsome figure from her father's past shows up, she starts to question how 'normal' she really is. CapXOC, see also the prequel on my profile entitled 'Tony Waffles.'
1. I Don't Think You Fit This Shoe

**Hello dear readers! And welcome to my latest story, About A Girl!**

 **A few things before I get started...This is a CapxOC story, and a follow up to my one-shot called 'Tony Waffles'. You don't have to read that to understand this story, but I think it's a cute intro to Tony and Eliza's brother/sister dynamic.**

 **I will try to update as much as possible. I've got Eliza's story plotted out through Infinity War, so this will be a multi-part story. This is part one, chapter one and begins at the end of The Avengers!** **Oh, and if you're wondering what Eliza looks like, I picture her as Emilia Clarke.**

 **I really love reviews - what author doesn't? - but I appreciate all forms of digital flattery.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

May 4th, 2012

Eliza gained access to Stark Tower easily enough since her name was on the side of the building. In the elevator up to Tony's quarters, her phone went berserk in her pocket. She pulled it out of her bag and saw four text messages, all from Tony.

 _STAY AWAY FROM THE TOWER!_

 _BAD GUY THERE!_

 _VERY DANGEROUS!_

 _SERIOUSLY!_

Leaning back against the cold metal wall, she rolled her eyes and replied, " _Already here. Omw up right now."_

Why would he propose they have lunch there and then tell her to stay away _as she was in the freaking elevator_? Her brother was infuriatingly fickle, and she wasn't going to put up with it. She had three short story revisions due in a week and final grades to enter; she really didn't have time to waste getting all the way to midtown just to go all the way back. Worst case scenario, Tony was too busy for lunch and she could hunker down and get some work done until he was free.

The door _pinged_ , and she stepped out of the elevator, hazel eyes scanning the room.

"Oh Tony," she singsonged into the empty space. Her words echoed back to her as she walked deeper into the room. "Tony? Where are you?"

"He's not here at the moment." a silky voice said from behind her. With a small yelp, she whirled around and saw the source of the voice. The man was over six feet tall and wearing a golden helmet with a pair of large antlers. His face was attractive and menacing all at once, and his smug, icy gaze was deeply off putting. He wore a cape and the outfit underneath it brought to mind a Renaissance fair. Something was _very_ wrong.

"The hell? Who are you?" she asked indignantly, "And where's Tony?"

"Oh, I'm sure your brother will be here momentarily. As for who I am, that seems immaterial," he said, raising a cruel, glowing scepter to her chest. She backed away from him as it whirred and he rested the tip over her heart. The smug look on his face disappeared as nothing happened, and he tried again.

"Could you not poke a hole in my shirt?" she demanded, pushing the scepter away from her David Bowie concert tee as gently as she could. "It's vintage."

He turned away from her then, looking toward the tip of the scepter and muttering something to himself in a language that Eliza couldn't understand.

"Hey! Who the hell are you? I'm about to call securi-" She didn't finish her sentence as the man whipped around, the dull end of the scepter collided with her face in an explosion of pain, and her world went black.

* * *

 _Already here. Omw up right now._

 _Shit,_ Tony thought as he whipped through the sky on his way to his tower. He was only about three minutes away, the bright 'STARK' sign visible in the distance. He deeply regretted forgetting his plan to meet Eliza there to discuss the role SHIELD would play in her future over lunch. Of all the days for Loki to unleash Armageddon, it _had_ to be today.

"Jarvis, can you get a visual on what's going on in the tower?" he asked the AI, praying that the psychotic Norse god hadn't thought to shut off the security cameras.

"I'm afraid not, Mister Stark. It appears that the surveillance system is offline." Jarvis said, "But I can tell that your sister's phone is on the forty-eighth floor and is turned on."

"That doesn't make me feel better about leading my kid sister into a trap, but good effort."

"I do try, Sir."

He couldn't help but roll his eyes inside his helmet as the tower got closer. His suit was beat to hell from the helicarrier malfunction, so he ordered Jarvis to prepare the Mach 7. As he got closer, he saw Loki eyeing him haughtily from his own balcony. Rage boiled up from Tony's stomach.

"Sir, the Mach 7 is not ready for deployment." Jarvis informed him.

"Then skip the spinning rims, okay? We're on the clock," Tony said as he went to land. He felt the armor start to strip away as he walked down the ramp. Loki moved back into the Tower. Tony was caught between annoyance, anger, and worry. Where was Eliza? Had Loki turned her into one of his mindless flying monkeys?

He cursed himself for telling her to meet him at the tower. Why didn't he think this shit through? They could've met _literally_ anywhere else. If they'd met in a restaurant and he didn't show she would figure he'd simply stood her up, order the most expensive thing on the menu, and send him the Visa bill. It wouldn't be the first time. But no, he had to go and invite her to the one place Loki would be.

"Please tell me you're going to appeal to my humanity," Loki taunted him as he sauntered across the stone floor.

"Uh, actually I'm planning to threaten you," Tony taunted back as he made his way down the promenade. He casually scanned the room, and found Eliza slumped in a chair. She was breathing steadily and she looked unharmed, save for a bruise blossoming on her left cheek. Her eyes twitched under her eyelids and he knew she was asleep. Loki stroked her hair as he passed, raising the lava of ire in Tony's stomach.

"You should've left your armor on for that."

"Yeah," Tony submitted, "Seen a bit of mileage and you've got the uh...glowstick of destiny." He made his way down the stairs as calmly as possible. All he wanted to do was throw his armor back on and pummel the Norse prick into the expensive marble flooring. But he knew Loki was counting on his temper. He had to approach this with an even keel...even if his baby sister was passed out on a chair, asleep and vulnerable. He had to keep his cool.

 _First time for everything,_ he thought.

* * *

Eliza woke with a start at the sound of multiple crashes to her left. Her head was pounding, and the crashing wasn't helpful. She opened her eyes when she felt the floor start to shake underneath her.

"Puny god," she heard as a giant green man passed her. He paused and she froze as they made eye contact. She had every intention of running away, but her feet remained frozen to the floor. This must be the Hulk, she realized. Just as she was about to unglue her feet, the green behemoth nodded at her and proceeded to leap out of the broken window.

A small moan come from her right, barely audible to Eliza, but she turned her head anyway and saw the asshole who had knocked her unconscious half-buried in the floor. He was staring up at the ceiling unblinkingly. Eliza smiled when she realized that The Hulk must've been slamming him around the room and that gave her a twisted spike of pleasure.

She strode to his side, doing her best to tower over him despite her stature. He continued staring blankly at the ceiling, eyes flicking over to her for a fraction of a second. Taking her chance, she kicked him in the ribs as hard a she could. The renaissance dude gave a satisfying, "Oof" and she walked over to where the windows used to be. Broken glass crunched under her feet and she gasped at the scene in front of her.

There was a giant hole in the sky above her, through which she could see only darkness and some kind of monsters coming through. They were screaming - no, it was a battle cry. She could hear her brother's Iron Man blasters going off and she could barely see the ground through the cloud of debris.

It was a warzone.

After waiting for a moment of vertigo to pass, Eliza made a mad dash for the elevator, boarding it the second the doors opened. She didn't know what she could do to help, but she knew she had to do something rather than stay in the tower. Her phone was in her pocket and she called Tony.

"Little busy right now, sis," he answered. "How was your nap?"

"What the hell is going on?" she demanded. The sounds of battle echoed on both ends of the call.

"Long story short, Loki unleashed the apocalypse in downtown Manhattan. Cap is on the ground around thirty-third, and I'm trying to contain the aerials. Get to a safe place, Liza-"

"No way. I'm heading down to the street to see if I can help."

"Eliza-!"

She hung up the phone before he could continue his protest. She knew what she was doing, her brother be damned. If she could help with anything, she was going to.

Leaving the relative safety of the building she turned left, running toward the intersection Tony had given her. "Thank god I wore comfortable shoes today," she muttered as arrived at her target. She slowed to a jog, catching sight of none other than Captain America.

She had seen hundreds - if not thousands - of photographs, posters, newsreels, and other visual media of Captain America, but it hadn't occurred to her until just then that she had never really _seen_ Captain America. He wasn't just a figurehead or a character in her father's stories anymore.

He was _real_.

He was beating the hell out of one of the alien monster things, perfectly countering the alien's attacks. Momentarily entranced, she nearly didn't see the other alien thing approaching him. Without thinking, she scooped up a piece of debris and smacked the thing in the helmet as hard as she could. It rounded on her, and her muscle memory kicked in. She dropped the pipe and threw a punch at where she thought its throat was, quickly retracting her fist and throwing another punch at its gut.

Her attacks didn't seem to be making any effect on the alien, as the thing was more annoyed than injured. It occurred to her then that she should've held onto the pipe.

She heard a grunt from behind her, and she glanced over her shoulder at the ridiculously tall blonde man smashing the aliens with a hammer. Using her distraction, the alien reached out and lifted her by the throat. Her airway constricted, but again she knew what to do thanks to years of self-defense training.

Using what little strength she had, she gripped the monster's leathery arm to counterbalance and swung her legs upward, hitting the monster in the bottom of the helmet. Its head cracked back and its grip on her loosened enough for her to slip out of it and drop to the ground. She crouched low and once again gripped the pipe, but a thick, blue clad arm appeared over her head, cracking the monster in the face. It fell backward onto the concrete and Eliza rose to her feet.

"I had it under control," she said indignantly, facing Captain America for the first time. Shocking blue eyes narrowed with worry at her from behind the mask.

She scolded herself, shaking her head slightly as he took a step closer to her and gripped her shoulders more roughly than necessary.

"Who are you? It's to dangerous for civilians right now!" he said harshly, trying to turn her bodily and shoo her away. She spun out of his grasp and stared him in the face.

"Eliza Stark, pleasure to meet you, Cap," she said as one of the alien chariot things charged them. Without warning, Captain America wrapped an arm around her waist and ducked with her, throwing his shield over both of them as it roared past. They stood up again and she continued, "And what am I supposed to do? Just sit in the tower like a good little girl while my brother charges headfirst into danger? No way! I've sat by too many times while Tony risked his life, I'm gonna goddamn do something!" She poked a finger into his star-spangled chest and he gripped her upper arms again.

"Miss Stark, please! It's not safe out here," His blue eyes bored into her hazel ones and she could feel her resolve melt.

She slumped in his grip a little, "Fine. I'll sweep the buildings nearby, happy?"

"Ecstatic," the captain said dryly, turning to face another alien who was coming at him as Eliza jogged over to a nearby bodega.

Eliza ducked beneath the fallen sign in the smashed storefront. The bodega was dark, and she didn't hear or see any indication of people inside.

"Hello? Anyone in here? I came to help!" she called. She didn't hear movement, so deeper into the bodega she went. Still not seeing any evidence of humans, she moved on to the dry cleaner's next door.

About ten minutes later, she was about to start searching the back room of a clothing shop when her phone went off in her pocket. It was Tony.

"Tony? Shouldn't you be busy saving the world?"

"Well, that's kinda why I'm calling. I've got a nuclear missile on my back and I'm heading for the big black hole in the sky."

Her feet started moving of their own accord trying to get her back outside, "What? Tony, no…" was all she could manage. Once outside her head snapped back, her eyes searching the sky until she finally caught sight of his red suit above her. Indeed, he was flying under a nuclear missile and he was heading straight upward toward the hole, which was closing fast. Unwillingly, her free hand covered her mouth. "Oh my god."

"Eliza, you know I'm the least sentimental person in the world but being your big brother has been the greatest honor. I'm really proud of you and I lo-" Tony disappeared into the hole and the phone call ended.

Eliza's blood ran cold as the hole shrunk faster. Gravity took control of her arms and she let them drop to her side, her phone clattering to the ground. She couldn't tear her eyes away, even as her vision blurred with tears. The noises of sirens and alien screams and buildings crumbling faded and all she could hear was her own heartbeat.

Her heart leapt when she caught a flash of red falling from the sky after the hole had closed. He was falling too fast, he wasn't slowing down. If he kept up that speed, he would surely be liquified upon impact. Her hands flew to cover her mouth and muffle her silent scream.

There was nothing any of them could do but watch him fall.

Until a flash of green snatched her brother out of the sky, dropping down along the buildings as gracefully as he could. The Hulk placed Tony on the ground gently, almost reverently. Captain America was closer, and managed to rip off Tony's mask before Eliza arrived. She skidded to a stop on her knees, not caring that she'd ripped open her jeans and the skin on her knees. Tony was unconscious and not breathing. She lifted his head onto her lap.

"Tony...come on, please, wake up," she muttered, brushing his hair off his forehead and tapping his cheek with her fingertips. His skin was pale and a little too cold. "Come on," she nearly whispered.

The captain bowed his head as she closed her eyes and let her tears fall. This wasn't happening, it couldn't be.

The Hulk roared at her brother and his eyes snapped open. He gasped for air and asked for schwarma, whatever that was.

Eliza breathed a sigh of relief. Tony was still Tony. The captain helped him to his feet and Eliza immediately wrapped him in a hug. The metal of his suit made the hug uncomfortable but she didn't care. Once again, Tony had cheated death. He returned her hug for a second before she let go of him, backing up enough to take a good look at him.

"Hey baby sis. How's your head?"

"About as good as your face looks," Eliza let out a bark of a laugh before shoving her brother in the chest, "You need to stop almost dying, jerk."

"I will make an honest attempt. Scout's honor," He held up three fingers to mimic the child's pledge before turning to his teammates. "Whaddya say we finish this?"

"Let's go get 'im," Cap smiled, nodding at Eliza as he turned back toward the Tower. At some point, his helmet had come off, revealing his golden blonde hair. Gods, he was truly the All-American hero. The Hulk followed him, but Tony hung back.

"Eliza, there's a schwarma place a few blocks away. Go on ahead and order...what do you think, eight schwarmas? Schwarmeen? Whatever the plural of that word is. This shouldn't take long." Tony patted her upper arm, nearly knocking her over.

"I'm your sister, not your assistant," she defied in a teasing tone.

"Yeah. If you're not careful I'll demote you," he smiled, tugging on a lock of her hair before he turned and followed his teammates. She watched him go before setting about her task.

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 **So that's chapter one! Let me know what you thought!**


	2. Hope You Have the Time

The next day found them all meeting in Central Park. It was a sunny, warm spring day and Eliza felt optimistic. Her head was pounding, likely an aftereffect of the concussion. She'd spent the night in Stark Tower with the rest of them after getting checked out by paramedics. She was lucky to escape with only scrapes and bruises, and a mild concussion.

That night she slept in Tony's room like she did the night their parents died, needing her big brother near enough to reassure herself that he was okay. This was his third (or maybe fourth?) near-death experience in four years. Reminding herself that her brother was still alive and hadn't been trapped on the other end of the wormhole was a necessity for her that night.

A long, hot shower and Tony Waffles for breakfast had her feeling calm and relaxed as the team made their ways to Central Park. She rode with Tony in his sports car, enjoying the wind whipping through her brown hair.

Over breakfast, Tony filled her in on what had happened over the last few days and exactly what she'd walked in on at the Tower. If she hadn't seen it with her own eyes, she never would've believed him.

The team gathered and watched as Thor escorted his mischievous brother back to Asgard, along with the tesseract. Shifting on her feet as the two gods jumped into the swirling water below them, Eliza couldn't help her eyes drifting toward the captain. Out of his uniform, he looked impossibly dashing in a checked button down and leather jacket, his hair perfect even though he had rolled up on a motorcycle.

Eliza blinked and couldn't stop herself as she walked over to the bike. "Holy shit," she whispered to herself, "Hello, beautiful."

It was all she could do not to run her hands over the shiny rear fender. The brand-new Harley Softail Slim was reminiscent of the Captain's cycle from the war, and she understood why SHEILD had chosen it for him. Similar weights, same manufacturer that hadn't dramatically changed their designs in about fifty years - it made sense.

"You like motorcycles?"

"Motorcycles, vintage cars, or anything pre-1950," she said, still admiring the bike. She paused when she felt their eyes on her and glanced up. The dashing Captain was even more so up close. The sunlight shone in his golden locks, his blue eyes were soft and warm, his slight smile was enough to melt ice and Eliza realized she was gawking at him.

"We didn't really get a chance to properly meet yesterday. I'm Steve Rogers," he said, extending his hand for her to shake.

"Eliza Stark," she offered, noting how warm his hands were.

He smiled, "Yeah, I remember. How's your head?"

"No worse for wear. I'm more concerned about the horrible face bruise," she said, waving at the hideous black and green on the left side of her face. She'd tried to cover it with makeup that morning, but it was still semi-visible. "But I suppose it'll heal in time."

"Thank goodness," Steve said, but immediately flushing, "Not that your face needs to heal, but that the bruise will heal. Your face - doesn't need to be fixed at all. And that's good."

"That the bruise on my face will heal?" She clarified, a small smile forming on her lips.

Captain America - Steve, she reminded herself - rubbed the back of his neck and looked at the ground, his cheeks and ears flushed adorably. "Yeah, that."

A hand on her back made her jump. Tony appeared at her side and extended a hand toward Steve. "Good work yesterday, Captain. Especially for a man of your age."

Eliza whapped her brother in the chest, just under his arc reactor. "Tony, don't be rude."

Steve just chuckled, "It's alright. You did good too, Stark."

Eliza noticed her brother puff up a bit at the Captain's compliment. It made sense; their father had spent both of their childhoods filling their heads with stories about the heroic Captain America. Both of Howard Stark's children held a deep admiration for Steve, only encouraged by their unofficial aunt, Peggy Carter. Meeting him like this was a bit surreal for Eliza. In her mind, Captain Steve Rogers was an intangible figure like the characters in her books. But now she could reach out and poke him in the chest, hear his laugh, run a hand along his strong arm if she so wished.

A little wistfully, she wondered what incredible sights lay underneath his shirt, but quickly shook her head. The man standing in front of her was over ninety years old, had known her father as a young man. Wrapping her head around that would take some time.

"Anyway, Eliza, Banner and I were going to head back to the tower to play around in the lab. Wanna join us?" Tony turned his attention to Eliza.

"I don't think so," Eliza shrugged, "I wouldn't want to get in the way of science bro time."

"Do you want a ride home, then? With that concussion I don't want you driving," Tony put a protective hand on her shoulder and she shrugged it off, slightly embarrassed at his concern. Especially in front of a super soldier.

"I'll grab a bus," she deflected quietly, giving her brother a look.

Tony peered at her over his sunglasses, "Buses are filthy, and you're a Stark -"

Eliza rolled her eyes as she interrupted her brother, "Not this again!" The siblings began to argue as they usually did when the subject of transportation came up; Eliza had no reservations about taking public transit, but Tony insisted it was too much of a risk to her personal security - even with Ray, her bodyguard, with her.

"Buses are crowded, and noisy, and you have no idea who - "

" - the point of paying taxes -"

" - literally the worst place for you to be -"

" - I keep my eyes open, I'm not as easy a target as you think I am!"

"I'd be happy to give you a ride home," Steve interjected. Two pairs of hazel eyes looked over at him and the bickering came to a sharp stop.

Tony took a step back from Eliza, "Well that's a horse of a different color. What do you think, Lize?"

Eliza looked from the super soldier to the bike to her brother, grinning at her with a bit of a twinkle in his eye.

"Yeah, okay. Thank you, Captain," she relented, shooting her brother another dirty look.

"Steve, please," he insisted as she passed him and moved toward the motorcycle. When she turned to bid her brother goodbye, he was already gone. Steve got onto the bike and turned, offering the only helmet to her. "Wouldn't wanna do more damage," he explained with a friendly smile.

She pulled on the helmet and gave him her address, to which he reacted with mild surprise.

"Greenwich? Really?"

"What, you figured I lived in some stuffy upper east side penthouse?" she asked sardonically, climbing on behind him. She made sure to keep a respectful distance between them as she put her hands on his waist.

He looked over his shoulder at her, "Well, yeah."

"Then you'll find that I'm full of surprises, Captain," she said, a smirk forming on her lips.

"Call me Steve," he countered as he kicked the bike into gear and pulled away from the curb.

Eliza Stark could handle her brother's teeny tiny sports cars. She could handle single-engine prop planes, kayaks on the open ocean, and rollerblading through midday traffic. But for whatever reason, she never got the hang of motorcycles. Oh sure, she could build one from scratch and tear one down in a matter of minutes, but that didn't mean she wanted to get on one of the metal-and-chrome death traps.

Sitting behind Steve, she clung to him more tightly than was probably necessary as she watched the pavement pass under the tires and silently composed her eulogy. A minute later she buried her face in Steve's shoulder. Propriety be damned, she thought as she moved her arms around his waist, huddling close to him as he drove. He stiffened a little, but she felt him relax a few seconds later.

Eliza smiled against his leather jacket and felt his relaxation seep into her as well. After the chaos of the previous day, this ride - terrifying as it was - made everything else fell away. Everything would be okay, even if she was scared out of her mind by the revving engine under her ass.

A little over halfway there, Steve pulled over and killed the engine. Eliza let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding and stretched her stiff muscles while she stood.

"Why'd you stop?" she asked. "At this rate it'll take me forever to get home,"

"I figured you could use a break. You felt a little tense," he explained, running a hand through his hair, "So you like bikes, but you don't like riding them?"

"I know, it's a bit...paradoxical" She glanced around and noticed an ice cream shop down the street a ways. It was strange, because the entire city seemed to be shut down that day. It made sense - in the wake of 9/11, it had taken days for the city's rhythm to come back. She pointed to it, as it would give them something to do while she steeled herself for the second part of their journey. "Do you want some ice cream? My treat."

Steve paused, but nodded. "Yeah, sure," he said, falling into step beside her. "So what happened? I mean, your dad was such a daredevil."

"My brother is too, in case you hadn't noticed," she pointed out and Steve let out a laugh.

"Fair enough."

The bell above the door to the ice cream shop tinkled as Steve chivalrously opened the door for her. It was everything a classic soda shoppe should be - a long display case, red vinyl booths, a specials board with chalk letters declaring that the flavor of the day was salted caramel surprise. Eliza could smell the chill in the air, likely from the massive display case. Glancing over at Steve she couldn't help be amused by his reaction. His blue eyes were the size of dinner plates as he took in the rainbow of different ice cream flavors. Red velvet, blueberry cheesecake, pineapple dream, they all looked tempting.

"Anything look good to ya?" asked the large man behind the counter. In his hands he held two large scoops, tapping the ends on the edge of the display case impatiently.

Eliza selected a flavor called 'Madison Avenue Pothole', which was coffee ice cream with Oreo, peanut butter, and toffee. Steve got vanilla.

"It sounds like that bike could use a tune up, by the way," she mentioned as they left the shoppe. It was warm enough now that Steve had taken off his jacket, one hand hanging it over his shoulder and the other holding his ice cream cone. On the way back to the bike, he once again walked between her and the street curb. Chivalry ran deep with him, she figured.

"I couldn't hear anything over the sound of my ribs cracking," he joked, nudging her a little with his elbow, "But I believe you."

"Ha ha, my terror is hilarious," she said between licks of her ice cream.

"How far away are we from your place?"

"Captain Rogers, are you propositioning me?" She asked in mock indignation and the resulting blush from Steve made her smile broadly. Gods, he was adorable too. "It's about a mile and a half - or as you New Yorkers say, fifteen blocks."

"You're not from New York?" His blush still lit his ears, but had faded from his face.

She shook her head, "No. Born and raised in California, but after my parents died Tony shipped me off to boarding school. Schools, really. I chose to stay here when I got back from my second Masters in England."

"What made you stay?" Steve asked, not stopping when they got back to the bike. It seemed that he meant to walk her the fifteen blocks home instead of making her get back on the bike. Or perhaps he didn't want to get ice cream on the leather seats of his new ride.

"I don't know, really. I like the energy here. You're from here aren't you?" She didn't like how one-sided the questions had been so far, so she flipped the question over to him.

"Brooklyn, actually," he corrected, "Not that I could afford to live there now."

She chuckled at that and started munching on the waffle cone. They passed a record shop that was closed, much like the rest of the city. She paused in front of the window and gasped.

"What? You okay?" Steve asked, whirling around when he realized she wasn't beside him.

"I'm fine, but look!" She pressed a finger against the glass, "The Beatles Anthology on vinyl! I've been looking for that for so long!"

"The who now?"

"Oh, right...um, the Beatles were a band in the 1960s, they're one of my favorites."

Steve shuffled his feet, "It's moments like this that make me realize I've been on ice for sixty years."

Eliza pondered for a moment before speaking. "Wow, you're right. And the technological advances made in that time...how has SHIELD not gotten you up to date?"

"They gave me a run down. Not really enough detail for my liking," Steve explained.

"You know my undergrad degree was in history? Twentieth century history, in fact," she mentioned oh-so-casually. "I could tutor you, if you'd like. Help you catch up."

Steve's face brightened as he tossed the paper wrapping of his cone into a trash can, "Really? That would be...I can't even - are you sure?"

"Yeah! We can totally set up some times for you to come over and we can run down on what you've missed," she offered a little too eagerly for her liking, but a chance to flex her historian muscles was something she didn't want to miss. "Give me your phone, I'll put my number in and we can figure out a time."

A little bashfully, he reached into the pocket of his pants and extracted an old Nokia brick phone. She had to stop herself from laughing and took the proffered phone, programming her number into the ancient Nokia's speed dial number 3 (SHIELD had already taken number 2, emergency services was always number 1). "All you have to do is press three and this button right here and I'll pick up."

Steve chuckled as she passed him the phone.

"What is it?" she asked.

"That's the fastest I've ever gotten a woman's phone number is all."

Eliza smiled. "Well, glad I could help with that."

The rest of their walk was filled with pleasant conversation about the city around them and how much had changed. Over the last week Steve had taken to wandering around, getting reacquainted with Manhattan and Brooklyn. With no demands on his time from SHIELD other than the occasional check-up and Eliza's classes being canceled for the rest of the semester they decided to start their sessions the next day.

The pair arrived at a brownstone building in the Village that looked much like every other brownstone around it, and Eliza stopped.

"Well, this is me," she said, motioning to the building. "Thank you for walking me home. I know Tony feels better when I have a big strong man around."

Steve smiled, the sunlight catching his eyes and making them shine. "It was my pleasure."

Eliza's insides turned to mush. He was too handsome. On top of that he was kind, chivalrous, funny, and a thousand other things. And he was _real_.

She cleared her throat. "So I'll see you tomorrow? Bright and early?"

Steve looked down at the sidewalk briefly, "Yeah. Tomorrow."

Her phone rang in her pocket. A name she hadn't seen in years flashed on the screen and her heart rate picked up a bit.

"Thanks again, Steve, see you tomorrow," she shouted over her shoulder as she bounded up the stairs and scanned her fingerprint on the front doorknob.

Steve Rogers waited until her front door closed, then turned and walked back in the direction they'd come, trying incredibly hard not to think of Howard Stark's daughter and her infectious smile, her brilliance, or the lovely timbre of her laugh.

* * *

 **We've got contact and a promise to see one another again! Could love blossom while talking through the latter half of the 20th century? I mean, I know I find the social and political turmoil of the late 1960s particularly romantic. Only kidding. Sort of.**

 **Anyway, let me know what you think! I love hearing feedback! 3**


	3. An Ear to Lend

**I wanted to take a moment and thank the following users for Following/Favoriting my story after only two chapters! I really appreciate it!**

 **ColorGuardianoftheGalaxy,** **Hackslash24x7,** **MissyMiahh,** **kanna97,** **tricia911114, CWash7135, Laura Mayron Shannone,** **NickyHorrible,** **TimeLegend16,** **ashleythomp,** **crzychigurl343, xLaBellaVita, and** **xoJulzSalvatorexo! I hope you all enjoy the update! Let me know what you thought in the review box!**

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Eliza Stark awoke the next morning and hopped out of bed - unusual behavior from a woman who would lounge in bed until the last possible moment. But today was different. Steve Rogers - Captain America - would be at her house in half an hour for a catch up session.

She'd stayed up late the night before planning her lessons. While she was no stranger to lesson plans and syllabi as a part-time professor at Columbia University and teacher at the New School, she'd never gotten to teach history. Her classes were more closely related to her profession - creative writing.

After she showered and got dressed, Jarvis interrupted her perusing the books in the library to inform her that Steve Rogers was at the front door. This was confirmed by her doorbell ringing, and she headed downstairs.

In spite of herself, Eliza was nervous as she approached the front door. Her stomach had been turning somersaults ever since she'd woken up that morning, but now it felt like butterflies were slam dancing in her gut.

She had spent the first eight years of her life intently listening to her father's stories of WWII and Captain America, as well as the first days of SHIELD. While her father and Tony had a strained relationship, Eliza had been the apple of her father's eye, his pride and joy.

Her doorbell rang again, and she opened the door. God, he was tall - she liked tall - and his blonde hair gleamed in the mid-morning sun. Eliza shook her head slightly as he turned to face her.

"Good morning," she said with a little too much gusto. She felt flustered, her hands clammy and she could feel heat rising in her face. "Come on in!"

As she moved aside, he entered her home and took off his sunglasses to reveal his shocking blue eyes. "Nice place."

"Thanks! Wasn't when I bought it though, total dump. Had to fix it up, paint everything, fix some structural anomalies. Do you want anything? Water, tea, coffee?"

"Coffee would be great," he said, following her out of the foyer and down the hall.

She started preparing the french press, thankful that he said coffee because she hadn't had any yet. "So I figured we would start right where you left off," she paused, pushing her dark brown hair out of her eyes.

"Seems like a pretty good place," he smiled and Eliza was glad for the distraction of filling the electric kettle. It was impossible to ignore the fact that he was handsome. But seeing him in person was still a little off-putting.

He ran a hand through his hair, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. Fuck, he was adorable too. She shook her head and poured the ground coffee into the french press, "Make yourself at home. The coffee will be ready in a minute."

He leaned against the counter and looked around. She watched him try to stifle a yawn. On the wall over the small dining table to their left she had two vintage posters in frames; one of the first Stark Exposition in 1974, the other was a WWII propaganda poster featuring, embarrassingly enough, the man standing across from her. It was a simple red, white, and blue print with the captain looking toward the upper right corner, the text reading, "Fighting for Victory."

As he looked, he paused, his gaze directed at the poster and smirking, "Hey, I know that guy." The smirk disappeared and something dark flashed behind his eyes, catching Eliza off-guard. Of course he would have some darkness; he was a soldier, and a man out of time. He looked so normal that she had to remind herself he was over ninety years old.

Here he was, standing not ten feet away from her in her kitchen. A man who was born ten years before the Great Depression, at the dawn of the jazz age, who didn't look a day over thirty. She shook the thought out of her head. It shouldn't be possible, but it was. Accept it and move on.

"Yeah, that was my dad's...I found it in some of his stuff after he died," she mumbled, not really wanting to get into the facts surrounding that horrible night almost twenty years ago.

"I was sorry to hear that they died," Steve said, genuine apology ringing in his tone. Eliza thanked him and she noticed him yawning again.

"Didn't sleep well last night?" she asked.

He shook his head and yawned deeper before responding, "Haven't really slept at all since I was...thawed out."

Before she could respond, the kettle clicked off. Quickly, she poured the hot water over the coffee and put the top on to let the grounds steep. "If you don't sleep at night, what have you been doing?"

"Reading, mostly. I'm actually in the middle of your book," he admitted, blushing bashfully. Her heart nearly melted.

Eliza was surprised, " _Cannon Falls_? Really?"

"Yeah, I really like it. Your main character reminds me of someone I know," he smiled and it was Eliza's turn to blush. For her first novel, she had quite unabashedly borrowed facts from Steve's life and his transformation into Captain America as the basis for Sergeant James Cannon.

Not one to be at a loss for words, she countered with, "To be fair, I had no idea you would come back from the dead and be standing in my kitchen someday." The coffee had steeped for long enough, so she gathered two mugs from her cupboard and poured them each a full mug. "Milk or sugar?"

"No, black is fine. And that's fair, I suppose. Any other books you'd recommend? Help me catch up?" he asked.

"I can have some books messengered over to your place. What do you say we get started? I've got a whole thing planned." She moved into the living room where she'd stacked a couple books for them to go over, and he followed.

"Sounds good to me," he said, taking a place on the couch next to her.

"Jarvis, would you open file Captain dash tutor dash 1945 to 1950 please?" she asked the AI system, and it obliged, pulling up the slideshow she'd made the night previous. It hovered, hologram style, over the coffee table and Steve's eyes widened.

"So, let's start with May 8th, 1945. On that day, Germany surrendered to the Allies,"

* * *

It took seven hours to cover those five years, as Steve had a ton of questions. She liked that about him, but something about it troubled her. Sometimes his questions would come out as demands. Polite demands, but demands all the same. It was like he needed this knowledge, like he would suffocate without it.

Eliza put down the book she had been reading to him, "And that is the end of 1950." She glanced at the clock and stretched, stifling a yawn. "How is it five o'clock already?"

"I've taken up your whole day, you've probably got plans," Steve suddenly got up and reached for his bag, "I'm so sorry, I should go."

She stood as well, "You don't have to. I've got no plans. You could stay...if you want. I was going to have dinner and maybe watch a movie, if you'd like to join me."

Steve paused, his face flickering, seemingly in conflict with himself. After a moment, he nodded and a slight smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "I can't remember the last time I saw a movie. That sounds great."

"Excellent. Anything you're craving after seventy years in ice?"

"Not anything in particular. Mind if I wash up?"

"Not at all, bathroom is at the end of the hall."

As she went back to the kitchen, Steve moved down the hall to where she'd pointed and shook his head in disbelief. When Tony had mentioned he had a sister, Steve expected a forty-something Stark in a wig, chain smoking like her father had. But, like so many things in this new time period, she was not what he was expecting.

She was beautiful. Captivating hazel eyes, long dark brown hair, and a wide, infectious smile. A little on the short side, but her small body was well-proportioned and slender. What had really attracted him, however, was her mind. She had one helluva brain. If he had doubted her status as an intellectual, listening to her talk during their walk the day before and about postwar America that day had convinced him. She was a Stark, after all.

Her book was also evidence of her intellect. _Cannon Falls_ told the story of a young man from Brooklyn, James Cannon, who was attending art school at the beginning of WWII. He was a weakling, but desperately wanted to serve his country. As a result of his desperation, he was finally accepted into a super soldier training program and underwent grueling physical treatments, eventually becoming a Captain America-like figure. Along the way he met a pretty nurse, Sally, and they began a romantic relationship.

While not quite getting the details right (Project Rebirth was still one of SHIELD's most guarded secrets), it seemed that Eliza had an uncanny understanding of what it was like to go through a major physical transformation. His own alteration had happened in a matter of minutes, but his fictional counterpart had to endure weeks of pain and suffering as his bones stretched and his muscles grew and his entire internal structure changed. Still, it was a difficult transition from weakling to peak physical specimen for both men, both physically and mentally.

As he washed his hands, he wondered briefly if she was dating anyone. He hadn't seen any rings, but the times had changed rather drastically. Maybe they'd done away with wedding rings by now.

He dismissed the thought almost immediately, glancing at himself in the mirror and shaking his head. His thoughts drifted for a moment, landing where they usually did when it came to matters of the heart.

Peggy. It felt like yesterday that he'd missed out on their date. She was still alive, he knew, well into her nineties in a retirement home in D.C. She'd gone on with her life and married someone else. Some small part of him was happy for her, but he was mostly filled with regret. He could've ditched out of the plane at the last second, he could've done a thousand little things differently.

Steve gripped the edge of the sink, his stomach twisting uncomfortably. He'd been awake a little more than a week and the pain had yet to subside.

Which is why he was glad for the distraction of somewhere to go to thrice per week. When Eliza had offered to catch him up, he had nearly sighed in relief. After he'd woken up, Fury had explained that he had an apartment waiting for him in midtown and a credit card with an obscenely high maximum - and then he'd taught Steve how to use said credit card - but he didn't really have much to do otherwise.

His place in midtown was small, with white walls and a sterile feel. In all honesty, he preferred the homey, lived-in feel of Eliza's brownstone to the blank walls of his apartment. He paused to look at the pictures she'd hung artfully in the hallway. Eliza and her brother on one of her graduations, Howard as a young man smiling in front of a building with his name on it, a framed magazine cover of a young Tony Stark with the title reading, "The Young CEO."

The smell of stewing tomatoes pulled him out of his reverie and drew him to the kitchen.

"Are you _making_ dinner?" He asked as he entered the kitchen. She'd started browning some ground beef in a pan and she was wearing a blue and white apron. A stainless steel saucepan was simmering on another burner.

"You sound surprised."

"You just...don't seem like the type to cook her own meals." He chose his words carefully so as not to offend her. He didn't mean anything by it, but he couldn't deny that he was, indeed, surprised.

"I know. But I've found being able to cook is one of the fastest ways to make friends." She flashed her infectious smile at him before continuing, "Do you want something to drink? Water, soda, beer, whiskey?"

"You've got whiskey?" He raised an eyebrow.

She shrugged, "I'm a Stark."

"I'll take a soda," he replied. She crossed to the space-age looking refrigerator and extracted a Coke, passing it to him with a glass full of ice before going back to the meat.

"I hope you like Italian food. I'm making spaghetti," she explained, motioning to a pot on the stove. A cursory glance at the simmering red contents and Steve was intrigued.

"It smells delicious. Can I help with something? I feel strange just standing here."

There was that smile again, "Sure. You wanna finish the meat while I make a salad?"

Steve nodded and accepted the spatula that she passed to him, taking her spot at the stove while she scooted around him and opened the fridge, taking out a package of mixed greens and some veggies.

Steve cleared his throat as he stirred, "So why did you need to learn how to make friends so fast?"

"Hmm?" She asked, looking up from her cutting board where she was slicing.

"You mentioned that cooking was a quick way to make friends. I was just wondering why you needed to make friends so quickly."

"I went to fourteen different boarding schools in eight years. Not because I was a troublemaker or kept flunking out or anything. Tony would just randomly decide to move me. One time I sent him a picture of me and a few friends, and the next day he took me out of school because he didn't like the uniforms," she chuckled at the memory, but Steve detected a hint of bitterness in her voice.

"Sounds like he takes after your father."

"If by that you mean selfish, you are correct. Don't get me wrong, I love my brother. But he can be a huge jerk sometimes."

"Yeah, there seem to be a bunch of stories about him like that."

"Discovered the internet, have you? Well, that's what Tony gets for living in the spotlight." Her words were light; her chopping was not.

"I asked Fury for his file, actually. Before the whole Chuthari thing. It barely mentioned that he had a sister."

"I am lucky enough to stay on the down low. Tony keeps insisting that I need a security team, and I had one for a while after the book came out, but for my everyday life Jarvis here is enough. And when I go out in public, I've got Ray with me."

"Thank you, Miss Stark." the British male voice said, "Would you like me to play some music?"

"Sure. Something to make Steve here feel at home." she suggested. Within seconds, the sounds of Glenn Miller's "Moonlight Serenade" softly began playing. The familiar sounds struck Steve in an almost uncomfortable way; like him, the old-fashioned jazz seemed out of place in the twenty-first century kitchen with its granite countertops and stainless steel appliances.

"You don't have to-"

"I insist. You're my guest. And besides, I have a major soft spot for jazz." she said, interrupting him as she pulled out a bowl to mix the salad in. "There's a great little jazz club over by Columbia."

"My friend Bucky and I would go to Harlem for jazz. When we could afford the subway fare to get there, that is."

She paused, "Huh...there's something I didn't know about you."

"Interesting since you literally wrote the book on me."

"Well I didn't really have a lot to go on. I got the big picture of your life and the stories my dad told me, but not the little details like that. It's sort of why I invited you to stay tonight."

"Yeah?" He stopped stirring and something in his stomach clenched.

"Yeah. I'd like to get to know the man under the mask. The real Steve Rogers, not just the one on paper." She paused and looked at him, her sizeable hazel eyes taking him in. In that moment he felt something flicker within him, but it only lasted a second before she turned back to the salad.

"Well, I'd like to get to know you too."

"Cool. You wanna drain that beef or what?" she chirped, dumping the veggies and lettuce into a large plastic bowl.

He obliged and soon enough, they sat at her dining room table enjoying a light conversation and some of the most delicious spaghetti Steve had ever had. With all of the bland food served by SHIELD, he was glad for the homemade meal.

After dinner, they adjourned to her home theater on the second floor of the brownstone. Steve walked in and let out a low whistle.

"This is nicer than any theater I've ever been to," he said, noting the plush recliners and carpeted floors. Three rows of three recliners, each with its own cup holder on either arm. How many drinks did the average 21st century moviegoer need?

She motioned for him to pick a chair and he started down the middle row, "I don't use it as often as you'd think."

"No?" He chose the last seat in the row, and she moved to the middle seat.

"It gets kinda lonely when it's just me, so I mostly watch movies in my bedroom. But tonight I'm glad for the company."

"Glad to be here." He settled into his seat and she into hers.

"Jarvis, play _Sunset Boulevard_ please." she said.

"Right away, Miss Stark."

"Sounds like a movie about Hollywood," Steve commented, never having realized before that moment exactly how much pop culture he'd missed out on. How many movies had me missed? Probably thousands.

"It is. It's about an old silent film star who hires a screenwriter to help her write her big comeback. Things go awry, there's a chimp involved, it's all very sophisticated," she joked as the beginning credits began to roll. "It's one of my favorites."

She curled into herself in an adorable way. Her knees came up to her chest and she brought her arms in, her hands resting under her chin. Throughout the movie he kept stealing glances at her.

She would mouth along to parts of the film he could tell were her favorites, as evidenced by her rapt attention. Once the movie was over she walked him down to the front door and they exchanged goodnights.

"I had a really great time today," he said genuinely.

"Me too. We should make it a regular thing." She leaned against the banister of her staircase casually. During the movie she'd pulled her hair out of its messy bun and run her fingers through it, so it now had a charming tousled look. Partnered with the half-sleepy look in her large doe eyes she looked like she had just rolled out of bed. Damn, she was cute.

"Yeah, definitely," he said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

"We should probably schedule another session then," she smiled. She did that a lot, it seemed to Steve. Not that he minded.

"Tomorrow? Same plan, different movie?" he proposed, shifting his feet uncomfortably.

Eliza nodded, "Sounds great. See ya then."

Steve exited the brownstone and it wasn't until his feet hit the sidewalk that he felt he could breathe again. He could count on one hand the number of times he'd successfully asked women out and even though this wasn't a date, it sure as hell had felt like one. His hands were clammy, his stomach was roiling, and there was a beautiful girl and dinner involved...

 _It wasn't a date,_ he reminded himself in big, bold letters in his mind. _And tomorrow won't be either._

* * *

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	4. A Date With You

**Good Evening and Happy New Year to all my lovely readers! I've got some exciting news; I am 2 chapters away from finishing Part One of this story! While this doesn't seem like a big deal to you guys, it'll be the first time I've finished a project within a decent amount of time (about 2 months, but I've been plotting all four parts since last summer). So anyway, I'll probably get all of Part One: About a Girl completely published by the end of January.**

 **Thank you to all of the new Follows and Favorites from thatssoannie, Elizabetch, and downcameablackbird. An extra special triple axel thank you to my first two reviewers, Ryvr and Guest! Thank you and I appreciate hearing your thoughts!**

 **Onto chapter four!**

* * *

Eliza Stark sat watching the grey sky pour down a late spring rain on her fellow New Yorkers from the safety of a warm coffee shop.

A neatly-dressed couple dashed across the street, the man shielding his partner with his jacket. Eliza smiled at his chivalry before returning to the pile of books and glowing laptop in front of her. The powerpoint wasn't going to assemble itself.

"More coffee for you, Miss Stark?" a gangly college hipster asked, pointing to her empty mug with a carafe.

"Yes, thanks," She said absentmindedly. For some reason focus eluded her today, but she wanted to write, to continue with her second novel instead of the powerpoint for the years 2000 to the present day she'd been attempting all morning. _That would make my publisher's day_ , she thought bitterly as she stirred some cream into her coffee.

"More for you, Mister Agyeman?" the kid asked Ray, her bodyguard, who was sitting across from her reading a newspaper.

The large man let out a deep laugh, "No thanks, kid. If I have anymore I'm likely to vibrate right outta my seat!"

So far, it was an average day in the life of Eliza Stark. Since she hadn't had one of those in a while, it was quite a nice experience.

"Excuse me?" a small voice asked from in front of them. Eliza turned her head and saw a girl, about fourteen, standing nervously in front of her. A pair of girls around the same age were giggling at a table not too far behind her. Ray stayed relaxed, but the girl still seemed nervous as Ray watched her from behind the paper. Eliza could understand, Ray was rather intimidating.

"Yes?" Eliza asked with a smile.

"A-are you Eliza Stark? The one who wrote _Cannon Falls_?" The girl asked, producing a copy of the book from the messenger bag at her side.

"I am indeed. Would you like me to sign your copy?" Eliza was no stranger to being approached by fans. While her older brother loved media attention, she kept out of the spotlight. The paparazzi had lost interest in her when they realized she opted out of parties.

However, that didn't stop the occasional fan from recognizing her and asking for an autograph. In truth, Eliza didn't mind at all. She wasn't one who thrived off of media attention like her brother did, but she did appreciate recognition of her genius.

The girl nodded enthusiastically. Eliza took out her pen and grabbed the girl's copy, listening to her go on and on about how it was her favorite book and she loved the characters and whatnot.

The girl revealed her name was Cecilia and she wanted to be a nurse, just like the main female character and how much she admired Captain Cannon, the cavalier super soldier protagonist.

'To Cecilia, enjoy your coffee! – Eliza Stark' she wrote quickly, giving the book back to the girl with a wide smile and a genuine thank-you.

Cecilia opened her book and read the inscription, giggling like mad.

"It was nice to meet you, Cecilia." Eliza said, dismissing the girl politely.

But Cecilia wasn't done. She stood there awkwardly, shifting her feet, "Um…There's one more thing."

"And that is…?" Eliza asked, aware of how red Sharon's cheeks had gotten.

"CanIhaveyourbrother'sphonenumber?" the girl blurted, and her companions at the table not too far away couldn't manage to stifle their giggles. Ray also let out a large, loud laugh that filled the restaurant.

Eliza smirked at their youthful silliness; "My dear, you and your friends are about fifteen years too young for Tony. But I'll tell him you said hi."

Sharon let out a large breath, clearly relieved at Eliza's answer, "Thanks, Miss Stark."

"Anytime."

Out of the corner of her eye, Eliza watched the girl go back to her friends and the three of them vacate the coffee shop. Going back to her laptop, she was a little thankful for the intrusion. Perhaps it would help her focus a bit better.

"Cute kid," Ray commented and Eliza hummed her agreement.

Five minutes later, she'd abandoned all hope of focusing. Ray went back to his paper. Opening her financial accounts, she figured trading some stocks around would help distract her. An email notification popped up and her friend Namir had sent her a cat video; she happily shared it with Ray who had a secret soft spot for animals. She chuckled at her bodyguard's reaction and took a sip of coffee as her phone buzzed in her pocket. Her brother's face flashed on the screen and she answered.

"Speak of the devil." She greeted.

"Hello to you too, little sister. How's the scribbling going?" he asked in a teasing tone and she rolled her eyes. Tony had never liked that she applied her Stark Smarts to the humanities, eschewing the twin pillars of the family business, Science and Technology.

"It's great. You should join me!" she mocked.

"Yeah, right, cuz I need more shit written about me. Anyway, I'm having a little fundraising shindig for the reconstruction effort tonight, I was wondering if you wanted to come."

Eliza leaned back in her chair. "Oh you were, were you?"

"Okay, it was Pepper's idea to invite you. But notice how I'm the one who actually called you. Very big brother-ly of me, huh?"

"Sure, uh-huh," she said sardonically. "Would I have to bring a date? Cuz I don't think I can find one this late."

"Oh please, open the phone book and pick a random guy; I'm sure he'd be thrilled to escort you," Tony explained simply. "But no, you can stag this one if you want."

"Where and what time?" she asked.

"Seven o'clock at the tower. Party deck."

"What's the attire?"

"Look pretty. Wear clothes. Maybe something slutty if you wanna get laid."

"Not helpful."

Jarvis interrupted, "Black tie, Miss Stark. And since this is a gala, I would suggest you leave the jeans and ratty sweatshirts at home."

"So my t-shirt with the rhinestone penis on it is a no-no?" She teased the AI. She could hear Tony laughing in the background. Ray quirked an eyebrow from across the table and smiled to himself.

"That shirt is always inadvisable, Miss Stark." The stuffy British accent said and she laughed.

"Shall I meet you there?" she asked Tony.

"I'll have Happy pick you up outside your place. Six-thirty. See you tonight!" Tony said, ending the call. Eliza rolled her eyes and reached for her coffee, taking a long pull before reaching down into her open messenger bag. It had been too long since she'd been to a party, much less a gala.

She told Ray of the plan and he responded with, "Sounds like fun. I'll probably go visit Damon then. He got on the honor roll at school, and I've been meaning to take him out to celebrate."

"Want me to make a phone call? I could get you in pretty much anywhere," Eliza offered, knowing how much pride Ray took in his son's academic achievements.

Ray smiled his gargantuan smile, "I think we're gonna go to his favorite deli in Harlem, but thank you for the offer."

"Miss Stark," a deep voice said from much too close a proximity for Eliza's comfort. Ray was immediately on his feet and placing himself in between Eliza and the voice.

She looked up and a tall man with a black trench coat and eye patch stood above her, his one good eye staring her down around Ray's shoulder. Eliza sat upright again and nodded.

"It's...okay, Ray," she said and Ray stepped down, but kept a hand lurking next to the taser he had hidden in his suit jacket.

"Who's asking?" she asked of the man as he presumptuously took the seat between her and Ray.

"My name is Nick Fury. I work for – "

"Oh, I know who you are, Mr. Fury," While she didn't know the face, she knew the name. "My brother told me about you. What brings you to the Lower West Side?" she queried.

"Straight to the point, then," he said. Ray tensed as the other man extracted a folder from inside his leather jacket and passed it to her. "We've been keeping a close eye on you since the battle. Security reasons, you know."

Eliza bristled as she took the folder and opened it, her eyebrows shooting up to her hairline when she saw the pictures of her and Steve walking to her house. Pictures following her and Ray on her errands about town. Perhaps the most damning were several photos of Steve arriving and departing her house, both of the subjects looking more starry-eyed with each photo.

"Are you for real?" She hissed, ire rising in her chest. How dare they spy on her? She lowered her voice to make sure she wasn't overheard, "What, exactly, gives you the right to spy on me at my own house?"

"As shocking as it is, we tend to keep an eye on any possible threats to our...assets," Fury explained calmly, his good eye laser-focused and empty.

"Threats? To an asset? The hell could you possibly mean by that?"

"I think it's pretty damn clear what I mean," Fury growled, tapping the photos that she had now placed flat on the table.

"I still don't follow." That wasn't true. Eliza was exceptionally perceptive, and knew exactly what he meant. But she wanted to hear him say it.

"We have reason to believe you are romantically involved with Captain Rogers," he said, keeping his voice low, "Which could prove traumatic for him in this new time period. He's still adjusting to a lot of things, Miss Stark, we don't need him becoming compromised."

It was all she could do to keep from laughing, "You…think I'll compromise him? Break his heart and make him useless to you?"

"Yes."

"Well then I hate to disappoint you, Director, but Steve and I are just friends. In fact, I've been helping him adjust to this new time period, catching him up on the events of the last sixty years which, incidentally, SHIELD didn't do, so I offered to pick up the slack!" She was more than a little pissed at the secret organization because of their dealings with Tony, and now their director was calling her a whore? She couldn't let that fly. "And yes, we've become friends during these sessions but we are not dating or sleeping together or whatever else you think we're doing."

If Fury thought she was lying to him, he didn't give anything away on his face. "You sure you're just friends?" He asked, stressing the last two words.

"Yes," Eliza confirmed, "Just friends."

The man rose to his feet and collected the file from the table and eyeing her down, "Make sure it stays that way. I wouldn't be pleased to hear otherwise, you understand?"

Eliza nodded, not enjoying the cryptic warning he'd just issued.

And with that, he was gone just as quickly as he'd arrived. If not for the lump in her throat and a tense bodyguard, she wouldn't have known he had been there at all. Not wanting to luxuriate in the coffee shop any longer, she packed up her things quickly, but not so quick as to raise suspicion, and left a too-generous tip under her coffee mug before quitting the establishment, Ray following right behind her.

* * *

For the rest of the afternoon, Eliza prepared herself for Tony's gala. She showered, made sure her little black dress wasn't wrinkled, and went digging in her closet for her favorite pair of Louboutins.

As much as she tried to push the confrontation with Fury out of her mind, she couldn't help the questions from forming - a new one every few seconds.

Why was he so invested in Steve's personal life? Did he think she was actually a danger to a super soldier? Why had he approached her now, after nearly three weeks, instead of talking directly to Steve and telling him not to get attached? Had he approached her because Steve had ignored the warning? And did that mean - ?

Her doorbell rang as she was putting the finishing touches on her makeup. Ray answered the door and she could hear Happy's voice from three floors up. As an afterthought, she spritzed some perfume she'd bought for herself on her last trip to Paris.

She glanced in the mirror one last time, deemed herself perfect, and descended the stairs. Happy escorted her out to the waiting towncar and she could tell that he was trying not to stare. Oh yeah, she looked damn good tonight.

The party was in full swing by the time she arrived and of course Tony was nowhere to be found. She wondered briefly if he was pulling a Jay Gatsby, but caught a glimpse of him and Pepper from across the room. He raised his champagne glass at her, but made no move toward her.

"Gin and tonic, please," she ordered from the bartender. Leaning against the bar, she suddenly remembered why she opted out of these types of thing. Looking around confirmed that she knew no one there. She did catch sight of a curly-haired scientist in the far corner and, accepting her drink from the bartender, walked over to him.

"Dr. Banner, right?" she asked as she approached. The man blinked at her in surprise, but recognition flashed across his face.

"Uh-yeah, yeah, that's me. You're Tony's sister, Eliza?"

"Indeed I am. Tony's mentioned how instrumental some of your research will be to our future endeavors so I thought I'd come over and say hi," she explained. In reality, Tony had gone on and on about how amazing the doctor's work was and all the possibilities it brought up until it made Eliza scream that he should just propose to Banner already, so it wasn't exactly a lie on her part.

The doctor nodded, pointing at her with his drink-holding hand, "Yeah, he's mentioned you too. So how'd he drag you to this thing?"

"He didn't have to drag me. Getting all dolled up like this reminds me how much I hate these things, and I was due for a reminder."

"Not a party person?"

"Not really," she said, catching sight of a familiar redhead stalking toward them. The woman's green gaze focused on the doctor.

"Miss Stark, Doctor Banner," she greeted in her silky, unaccented voice.

" _Zdravstvuite_ , Natasha," Eliza greeted coldly, flicking her eyes over the rest of the party. Of the Avengers she wasn't related to, she'd known Natasha the longest. However, their acquaintance got off to a rocky start when the Black Widow posed as Tony's assistant a few years back to keep tabs on him for Fury. Her presence raised Eliza's hackles, so she didn't stick around past the pleasantries before excusing herself to get another drink. A twelve piece band had set up in the far corner and started playing an upbeat jazz tune.

A bunch of A-listers and their dates started dancing, and Eliza noticed a silent auction set up in the far corner. It was all big ticket items, including a yacht, a week on Tony's private island in the Caribbean, and a home-sized arc reactor - including personal set up by the man himself. Eliza bid on a signed replica of Prince's Purple Rain motorcycle. She doubted the thing ran, but if she could get it up and running it would sell for triple what her bid was.

"Shoulda known I'd find you by the motorcycle," a familiar voice said from behind her and she turned, coming face to face with Steve. His black suit fit him perfectly, but it seemed that he was feeling a little out of place. Not surprising, and incredibly endearing.

"Steve! I didn't know you were going to be here," she said, hugging him briefly and trying to control the smile on her face.

"Likewise," he admitted, "You look incredible tonight."

She thanked him and brushed his lapels, "You too. Who knew you'd look just as good in a regular suit as you do in the spangly one?"

Steve chuckled, "Your brother, apparently. This just showed up at my door this afternoon and Jarvis told me to put it on."

"Oh right! You live here now," she pointed out. That was why they had foregone their lesson that day and the previous one - so Steve could move his stuff and settle into the apartment Tony had for him in the Avengers Tower. Apparently, he'd remade a bunch of floors into apartments for the team, but so far only Steve and Bruce had moved in. "How's that going?"

"It's good. Nice to have my own space, you know?"

"Yeah, definitely. Do you want to go out on the terrace? It's kind of stuffy in here," she suggested, motioning to the doors.

"Sure," Steve said, offering her his arm. Eliza took it and fell in step beside him, biting her lower lip to keep the goofy smile at bay. She was a little giddy - a gorgeous man at her side, two gin and tonics in her system, and the beauty of the lights in the city. They stood by the railing and enjoyed the view in silence for a bit as other couples milled about.

"I really enjoy this," she said, still looking out on the city.

Steve turned to her, "Enjoy what?"

Eliza opened her mouth to speak, but Fury's warning flashed in her mind. She was going to say that she liked being comfortable enough with Steve so she didn't have to talk - they could just enjoy each other's company.

"Uh-the view!" she covered, not missing the flicker of disappointment on his face. "Tony picked a good spot for the tower. What are you drinking? I'll get you another." The words tumbled out of her mouth quickly, and she hoped he didn't sense what she was desperately trying to hide.

She liked him. Romantically. Just like Fury thought she did. And if there was one person whose crosshairs she didn't want to be in, it was Nick Fury's.

"Old fashioned," Steve said, passing her the glass. She didn't pause to make a joke about how an old-fashioned man was drinking an old fashioned before heading to the bar.

As she walked away, Steve grabbed her elbow. "Is everything okay? You seem a little edgy."

Eliza smiled, knowing how fake it must've looked, "Yeah, I'm fine. I wish I was at home in my pajamas right now, but otherwise I'm fine."

"Do you wanna go back inside? We could, I don't know...we could dance? If you'd like," he asked bashfully, dropping her arm and shoving his hands in his pants pockets.

"Dance?"

* * *

Steve had no idea what possessed him to ask Eliza to dance. Something in the way her dreamy demeanor had changed so quickly, how he'd seen her jerkily reach for the glass in his hand, and he had wanted to help her relax.

"Dance?" she asked, large hazel eyes looking at him for clarification as she tilted her head a bit.

He didn't answer; he reached down, grabbed her hand, and led her gently inside. The band played a slow song with a melody he didn't recognize - but that was nothing new. When his feet his the dance floor he turned to Eliza. She still looked a little confused, but she complied and put a hand on his shoulder.

He started swaying and only then did he remember that he had never danced before in his life. Well, not with a partner, anyway. A red flush crept its way into his cheeks and he leaned down to whisper in Eliza's ear.

"I've never done this before," he admitted. Her face turned toward his and they were inches apart.

"From my understanding we just sway in a circle until the music stops."

Her hazel eyes twinkled in the light, the laughter returning there and making something in Steve's chest stutter. She did look amazing tonight; her black dress fit every curve and her hair was curled at the ends, adding to her dreamy appearance. They continued swaying to the music and Eliza hummed along.

"You know this song?"

She hummed her affirmation, "It's one of my favorites. I'll play it for you next time you're over."

He was caught up in the moment, actually enjoying himself in this new time period. That only ever seemed to happen when Eliza was around. Their sessions had proven invaluable to him in more ways than one, and he could say without a doubt that without them he would've sunk into the depths of his despair.

He let himself relax, focus on guiding Eliza in a small circle. Quite unexpectedly, she leaned her head against his shoulder and Steve felt a shock go through him.

" _I'm gonna have to rain check,"_

" _I had a date…"_

He shouldn't be here. Not in this time period, not in this place, not _dancing_. His broken promise ricocheted around the room, taunting him, poking at the deepest parts of his melancholy and unleashing them.

Peggy's brown eyes, her dark victory curls, that red dress. A question, a kiss, a photo in a compass.

Steve stepped back from Eliza - the room suddenly feeling very small. Lack of oxygen. He had to get out. She caught herself and looked at him, concern etched between her knitted brows.

"Steve? You okay?"

"I...I gotta go. Sorry," he excused, his heart pounding in his chest and palms sweating like mad. He didn't stop until he got to his room, twelve floors down.

Eliza could only stand there and wonder why as she watched his broad shoulders cut through the crowd to the elevator.

* * *

 **The sooner you review, the sooner you get another chapter!**

 **XOXO, Meghan**


	5. Hang Me Out to Dry

**How's it going Fanfic fans?! Here's the fifth chapter of About a Girl - we are officially halfway through this part of Eliza's story! How exciting is that? I've officially started Part Two: Heart-Shaped Box.**

 **Special thanks to my followers and favoriters! Chijisgirl2, Edwardlvr2317, BlueMango's, LuMach, OpenBookLina, FelineNinjaGrace, Madzilla1075, QueenDisney201, elljayde, MariaEduardaB, and IsabellaPotter15 - I wish all of you nothing but good things!**

 **Extra-special double-foam triple espresso thank yous to my Reviewers! Lu Mach, elljayde, Ryvr, and Tori - Thank you so much for your feedback, and I'm hoping you all like this chapter!**

 **Without further ado...**

* * *

Eliza was sure Steve wouldn't show for their last session. The other night at the party it had seemed like he couldn't get away from her fast enough. She'd played the night over and over in her mind but kept coming up with nothing. Nothing she said or did could've elicited such a strong reaction from him. She'd thought that putting her head on his shoulder had set him off. But she'd done that several times during their sessions or while they watched movies, and he'd been generous with hugs or appreciative touches on her shoulder or arm.

No, she couldn't think of anything she'd done wrong. It must've been something internal on Steve's part, which she was more than willing to forgive.

She wished it didn't bother her so damn much. Indeed, she'd thrown herself into writing the last few days while she constructed a fort of ice around her heart. Especially after Fury's warning to her - it would be best to distance herself from him.

Coffee, she needed coffee. She set the kettle on to boil and jumped when her front door opened and closed.

"Captain Rogers is here, Miss Stark," Jarvis informed.

"Eliza? You here?" Steve called.

"In the kitchen," she called before she could stop herself. Since she'd just woken up and hadn't dressed yet, she was braless under the thin green tank top and her yoga pants were, well, yoga pants. Luck was on her side, though, as she'd stashed a hoodie in the dining room the other night or she could've poked Steve's eye out.

He entered the kitchen as the hood settled over her head and the kettle clicked off. Steve filled the french press while she struggled to release her hair from the fabric.

"Hey," he said, leaning on the opposite counter and looked at her from under his brow.

"Hi," she muttered, attempting to tame her frizzy unwashed hair. "I...didn't think you'd show up today," she admitted and balled her hands into the kangaroo pouch of the Columbia hoodie.

He smiled and she could feel the ice around her melt, "I wasn't going to miss our last session. And I...I also came to explain what happened the other night."

"Oh," Eliza said, feeling her stomach clench as she pushed the plunger of the french press down. This brought her within a foot of Steve and he reached out to put a hand on her arm, turning her to face him.

"Eliza, it had nothing to do with you," he paused and sighed, "It's...before I - before I went into the ice, I made a plan - a date, actually, with this woman -"

"Peggy Carter," Eliza filled in. She'd been expecting this moment for a while now, and it surprised her that it had taken this long for him to bring her up. He was looking down at where his hand still rested on her upper arm and pulled it away as if he'd been shocked.

"How did you know?"

"My father and Peggy were good friends. She was sort of our unofficial aunt, and she told me all about your...flirtation." She couldn't help but smirk. Steve's face was bright red and he looked distant over her shoulder.

"Yeah, that," he cleared his throat and brought his blue eyes to focus on her again. "Anyway, I was dancing with you and having a really good time when it all...flooded back, I guess. It had extraordinarily little to do with you and I'm sorry for leaving like I did."

"Apology accepted," Eliza said without hesitation and poured them coffee. Steve took his and sipped. The room fell silent for a moment and the tension between them dissipated.

"For the record, I was having a good time until...you know." Steve motioned to his head vaguely and Eliza nodded.

"I was too. And really, you don't need to worry about it. Shit happens."

"Indeed it does," Steve agreed. "So, the last four years then I'm all caught up."

"Yeah! Right! Shall we?"

* * *

To celebrate Steve's achievement, she'd made shepherd's pie upon his request. They'd taken their meal into her home theater and watched Back to the Future.

During the movie Eliza reflected on the last month with Steve. They'd conquered dense textbooks written by less-than-engaging academics, gone over sixty years of history, and watched about thirty of what she'd considered classic films. Yes, Steve was ready to take on the twenty-first century on his own. He knew how to use his cell phone and text, and had discovered Google on his own. As impressed as she was by his progress, she was also disappointed that they were out of excuses to see each other.

As George McFly punched out Biff, Eliza tried to think of ways they could see each other non-romantically. He lived at the tower, and they could just happen upon one another - but no, Eliza had very few reasons to go there. A friendly cup of coffee? Surely Fury wouldn't think anything of that.

Eliza felt naive. Fury would see right through any excuse she could come up with, but at the same time she knew she wanted to keep seeing the super soldier. Over the last weeks, she'd come to know the man under the mask. He liked to doodle while he was taking notes, and he asked questions without sounding like he already knew the answer. He admitted what he didn't know and was down to earth. And he liked her book - complimented her on it, even. After he'd finished it he asked her to sign his copy, and asked if she was going to write a sequel.

She chanced a glance over at him in the dark. The blue light of the screen in front of them cast his features in a sharp chiaroscuro as he watched Marty play the opening licks of "Johnny B Goode."

He caught her staring and smiled at her, "What?"

"Nothing. I like looking at you is all," she said before she could stop herself. Steve's smile grew wider and even in the dark she could tell he was blushing. She shifted in her seat so she was closer to him, sitting up on her knees and fully facing him now. All she had to do was lean forward to close the distance between them.

"The feeling is mutual," he confirmed, but his smile evaporated after a second. "But...we shouldn't."

Eliza deflated and sat back on her butt again, her knees propped up on the seat between them. "Fury talked to you too, huh?"

Steve nodded gravely. "He suggested now that I'm all caught up that you and I should...not see each other as much anymore."

"And you agree with him?" she asked as gently as she could. Finding out he reciprocated her feelings had sent her insides into outer space, but now they were hurtling back to earth.

Steve looked down at his hands, clasped so tightly his knuckles were turning white. "I think I do."

Splat. Eliza sunk back in her chair, wishing it would wrap itself around her and eat her alive. Breathing was difficult; it felt like a weight was pressing down on her. All she could muster was, "Oh."

"It's not that I don't like you, I do, but...I'm still new here. Getting a feel for things. And after the other night, I'm not - I don't think I - I'm stable enough for a relationship," he admitted, his gaze blank and staring straight ahead.

"I understand," Eliza whispered. Truly, she did. After her fiance Alex had died she waited a year to start dating again, and the first time out of the gate was an utter disaster.

A silence fell over them, save for the sounds of the movie. Neither of them moved for a long time. Finally with a long, haggard sigh Steve stood up.

"Thank you for helping me. It means more to me than you know," he intoned as he paused in front of her, placing a hand on her shoulder. He took a beat, and then continued down the row of chairs, up the steps, and out the door.

Eliza blinked away the tears that had formed and stopped the movie. She liked Back to the Future, and didn't want it associated with this particular - horrible, gut-wrenching, heartache-inducing - moment.

* * *

Three Days Later

If nothing else, Garrett Redgrave was a gentleman. He opened doors for her, he picked up the check over Eliza's insistence, and he knew how to pop open a bottle of champagne without soaking or injuring either one of them.

It probably helped that Ray was never more than thirty feet away from them. But Eliza chose to focus on the positive. Garrett was an old friend from her boarding school days, where they'd been the will-they-won't-they couple until Tony moved her. He'd called her the day after the Battle of New York and mentioned he was going to be in town for a few days in early June. When the aforementioned days arrived, he'd called her again to set up a date. Eliza had readily accepted - anything to get out of the house.

While the date he'd planned was a bit cliche, she was enjoying herself. They'd gone to a fancy restaurant for dinner and were now riding in a horse drawn carriage in Central Park. It was every non-New Yorker's dream New York date. To Eliza, it was a bit too touristy. Despite that, she applauded his effort - he was from out of town, after all.

It was difficult to begrudge him much of anything, though, since he was the most attractive person she'd ever seen in real life - which was saying something. Dark hair and eyes so brown they swallowed the light in the room, along with a strong jawline and tan skin, she was sure he could make anyone swoon. The broad shoulders and toned arms only added to the fascination. He dressed like he lived in the pages of Vogue. Eliza was glad he'd called her after all this time - even if he was a rebound of sorts.

The Central Park lights twinkled as the carriage passed by. Eliza took another sip of champagne. Indeed, it was a perfect night. Except that it wasn't.

Days later, she still felt the sting of Steve's rejection. He had quashed a hope she hadn't even known she had, and his absence over the last few days was sorely felt. How quickly she had gotten used to his visits and his questions about the past sixty years. His presence in her life had been warm comfortable like a cozy sweater on a chilly fall day. But because of their growing mutual attraction and Fury and a thousand other little things, he'd backed away. It hurt, but she would survive.

"Eliza? Did you hear me?" Garrett's voice asked and she shook herself from her reflection.

She shook her head, "No, sorry. I got distracted," she explained.

The smirk that accompanied his comment made her breath hitch a bit. God, he was gorgeous. He chuckled, "One of the downsides of a creative mind, I suppose?"

"Yeah. What were you saying?"

"I was wondering what it was like to have your name on a building? Especially one as revolutionary as Stark Tower," he explained, and Eliza suddenly realized they were in the area of the park that was closest to the skyscraper. She could see it from her seat and hear the clean-up crews from here. They'd been working almost non-stop for the last month to get the buildings back to how they were.

Eliza rolled her eyes, "I hardly notice that stuff anymore. And besides, it's going to be re-christened the Avengers Tower soon. Now having my name on the cover of a New York Times bestseller...that's a whole other story."

"Right, I bet. I must admit, though, I haven't read your book," he confessed sheepishly. Eliza faked grievous offense and gasped at his comment, but he laughed and promised that he would, and soon.

"You know, reading my book won't guarantee any action," she mentioned suggestively. The champagne was getting to her head - to say nothing of the two glasses of wine she'd had at dinner, and she normally wouldn't be this forward. At this moment, she found it hard to care.

"I didn't assume that it would." He turned to face her, his skin glowing in the soft light of the street lamps. His gaze focused on her face and he reached out, brushing an errant strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm so glad I looked you up when I got to town."

"Me too," she said. He was much closer than he had been - when had that happened? - and she caught a whiff of his cologne. It was a woody, crisp scent, like a fresh breeze through a forest. The pleasant buzz she was feeling only fed her desire. She knew it wasn't a wise decision, but in that moment she needed to be wanted and if the look in Garrett's dark eyes was any indication, boy, did he want her.

She took a risk and leaned forward until her lips brushed against his. It took him a moment, but he started kissing her back; softly, at first, and then more insistent. His hands worked their way around to the small of her back and he pulled her closer so she curved against him. Her hands responded in kind, one pressing against his chest and the other threading through his thick hair.

They broke apart, Eliza slightly breathless. They kept their hands on each other, and she could feel his heart pounding heavy under her hand. He was warm, and he smiled. The corners of his eyes crinkled, and Eliza couldn't help but smile as well.

"Well...I wasn't expecting that," he said, a teasing tone in his voice.

Eliza felt exceptionally brave at the moment. It was a nice feeling for a change, so she placed a peck on Garrett's cheek and smiled.

"Then you're really going to be floored at what happens next," She turned to the front of the carriage, "Driver? How much would it take to get you to the Village?"

* * *

The Next Morning

Garrett didn't sleep over; he had an early flight back to London so he slipped out of her apartment around one in the morning. She was okay with it. A one night stand was exactly what she needed at the moment.

The sun shone through the tall windows in her bedroom and she stretched, smirking at her memory of the previous night. Eliza grabbed the pillow next to her and hugged it, a smile on her face.

The smile didn't last long, however, as Tony burst in through her bedroom door.

She yelped and scrambled to cover herself, as she hadn't redressed after her night of debauchery.

"Morning sis," he said casually, moving across the room to her dresser and opening the top drawer. He picked out a t-shirt and tossed it on the bed, "Get dressed, we've got work to do."

While having her brother let himself into her home was nothing new, there was something about his countenance that gave her pause as he left the room. He seemed to have a dangerous energy, as if he'd drunk too much espresso and taken a few ritalin - it wouldn't have been the first time that happened.

Eliza waited until he slammed her bedroom door and started shouting orders at Jarvis as he walked down the stairs to move from the bed and pull on the shirt he'd unceremoniously tossed at her. She added a pair of pants to her ensemble and made her way downstairs, pulling her tousled hair into a messy bun as she went.

Tony had set up shop in her living room, Jarvis casting projections all over the room. The largest projection was a map of the area around Stark Tower, with red, orange, and yellow dots all over it. The one next to it was a list of buildings, each one highlighted with the same colors.

"What am I looking at?" she asked, wishing he'd at least brought coffee with him.

"We - you and I - are going to rebuild."

"Rebuild what?"

"The city. The parts that went boom during the invasion. We're going to pay for the damages and rebuild the buildings within a ten block radius of the tower," He explained, fiddling with some figures on the projection.

Eliza quirked an eyebrow at her older brother, "Arent there a bunch of government contractors already working on it?"

"Yeah," he confirmed as he looked over his shoulder at her, a devious smirk on his face, "But they're going too slow. We're going to have it all done by the end of July."

Eliza's jaw dropped. It was already the beginning of June; There was no way they could make all that construction happen in that short amount of time.

"Are you insane?" she demanded, "Why?"

"Because it's the right thing to do. And I'm throwing a Fourth of July shindig at my brand new tower that I don't want to be interrupted with protesters," he said. Tony had had some crazy philanthropic ideas before, but this one took the proverbial cake. She didn't quite believe the more selfish part of his explanation, but she let it slide for now.

"Fine, say we can get this done, how much will it cost?"

"Who cares? We're multi-billionaires."

"I need coffee," Eliza sighed as she turned and left the living room, heading for the kitchen. Coffee would be a nice distraction. Parting with her money wasn't the issue; she was more than happy to donate as much of her unneeded income as possible. She didn't believe that it was possible in the time frame Tony had presented.

While she had gone into the kitchen to collect her thoughts and escape her brother's insanity for a second, her hopes were dashed when Tony appeared next to her, the projections following him from the living room.

"So we have a press conference this afternoon, and I'm going to need you to run media interference some days since I'm going to be helping the rebuild effort in the suit," he continued to explain as he paced around the room, tapping a few things before casting a 3D hologram of the area onto the kitchen island.

It was the first time Eliza had seen the destruction. Even if it was in miniature, the damages were extensive. One building had almost an entire side missing, like a gigantic scrape exposing the innards. Another looked like it had been crushed at the top, the sides puffing out like a squeezed marshmallow. Most of the windows in the area had been blown out, blast marks graffitied the few buildings with stone facades, and a few of the strange chariots were still embedded in various buildings.

What struck Eliza was how, in a city of 7 million people, only 76 had died. Their deaths were tragic of course, but she was absolutely amazed that it hadn't been worse than it was.

"Conservative estimates put the damage around 80 billion dollars, which we would be able to swing easily, but most of these places had big old insurance policies. I figure whatever insurance won't cover, we will. And if their premiums go up when they shouldn't, they'll be hearing from our lawyers." His words seemed to gather speed as he spoke, and it was then that Eliza noticed how ashen his face was and how deep the purple half-moons under his eyes were.

Tony wasn't sleeping.

"What is this really about?" She asked, pouring coffee for herself.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you didn't offer to go up against insurance companies when that psycho tore up the grand prix in Monaco. What makes this so different?"

"PR. We have to get out in front of this if Stark Industries is going to survive. Did you see our stock numbers the day after the incident?"

Indeed she had. While no economic genius, she liked to stay on top of her finances, "Yes, I -"

"We need to create as much goodwill as possible with the people of this city because one day the voice of the dissidents is going to be louder than the voices supporting the Avengers. And, as leader of the Avengers -"

"I thought Steve was the leader?" Eliza returned his favor by interrupting him. Tony's shoulders tensed a little, but he caught her teasing tone and relaxed.

"As a prominent member of the Avengers, and the only one with a business to run - which you rely on as well, might I add - I feel as though we should be the one drumming up the good press," he explained. Eliza sipped her coffee and assessed his logic.

"But why do you need me in on this? If it's about the Avengers, shouldn't Steve be out there with you? Or Banner?"

"Banner is more comfortable in his lab, and don't you think for a second that I'm not putting Capsicle out there with you. You two make quite the attractive couple," he teased her back as he crossed in front of her to pour himself some coffee.

"Is that really the best idea? You look like hell."

"I look fine."

"You haven't been sleeping," she hardened her tone. Self-care was never Tony's strong suit, but he would usually make a bit more of an effort if she pointed something out to him.

Once, when Eliza was thirteen and Tony was twenty-six, she'd come home for spring break and found him in his lab asleep underneath one of his fancy cars, tools clutched to his chest like teddy bears. She'd forced him up the stairs and into the shower, then made him leave the house with her. They ran a few errands and ended up at the Santa Monica pier, riding rides and eating junk food until one of them threw up (it hadn't been Eliza). For the rest of the week she was home Tony slept regularly - well, as regularly as he could - and ate real food instead of guzzling energy drinks and coffee.

He braced himself against the countertop staring down at it with a blank intensity that unnerved Eliza, "How the hell am I supposed to sleep? I can't close my damn eyes without seeing…"

"Without seeing what? Come on, you can talk to me." Eliza approached him and put a hand on his shoulder.

He jerked away from her, something dark flashing across his face. "Press conference is at two, I'll have Ray bring you over to the Tower around one."

And with that, he stormed out of her house.

She didn't try to stop him.

* * *

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 **Not that I would kill my husband, I am rather fond of him.**

 **But you should review anyway.**

 **XOXO, Meghan**


	6. Easy, Friend

**Short Chapter Alert! This is the shortest chapter of Part 1, so depending on the feedback I get I'll probably post the next chapter early next week. Hint hint.**

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 **As always, big shout-out to my Reviewers; Guest and Lady Porterfield!**

 **Chapter 5 comin' at you live!**

 **That was weird...let's just forget that happened and move on.**

* * *

July 17, 2012

Eliza was rereading Jane Eyre for the hundredth time when the power went out and her bedroom was cast into darkness. This was next to impossible, as she and Tony had installed her own arc reactor when she was working on the place. Fumbling in the darkness, she found her phone and dialed Ray, who lived downstairs.

He didn't answer. The big lug was probably asleep - it was almost two in the morning. Although it was strange that he slept through his phone ringing. Eliza got out of bed and flicked her phone into flashlight mode while heading for her basement.

The cool night air felt good against her bare legs, The dog days of New York City were upon them, and she was going out to her house in the Hamptons until September. Her bags were packed and ready to go for the next morning. Now that she didn't have Steve to tutor anymore, she saw no point in turning into a sweat puddle with the rest of the city. For a hot second she'd considered inviting the supersoldier out to the beach with her, but had thought better of it.

Unbidden, the image of a shirtless Steve on the beach rose in her mind. Broad shoulders and bare chest covered with water droplets as he rose out of the surf, flinging his wet hair out of his face like some cheesy Baywatch actor-

Eliza shook her head, willing the thought of him away. Fury would have her hide if something happened between them, and from what Tony had mentioned of the mysterious Director over the years, his was one shit list you didn't want to be on.

One floor down, the fire escape groaned underneath her. She stopped moving and listened. The metal groaned slightly above her, and she knew she wasn't alone. It couldn't be Ray, either. He lived below her and she was just off the second floor.

Opening a window, she slid back into her house and shut the window. She made sure to lock it, just in case. Maybe it had been a fluke? Her overactive imagination getting the best of her? Still, she didn't take her eyes off the window and backed out of the room.

She passed through the doorframe and out into the hallway and slammed into something hard. No, not something, someone. Whipping around, she caught sight of a pair of massive arms and ducked just as they would've closed around her.

Shit, she thought as she threw herself back. In the light from the window, she noticed his right pant leg was darker than his left. Aiming for it, she kicked out and made contact with a rock hard thigh, but she was correct in assuming he was injured. The assailant growled in pain and Eliza took the chance to sweep his legs out from under him and dart away, down the hall and through the thick doors of her library. With shaking hands, she turned the lock and prayed it would be enough to stop whoever had broken into her house.

This was no ordinary smash-and-grab. Whoever that man was he had disabled her arc reactor in the basement and - Ray. She gulped and heard heavy, uneven footsteps heading toward her. Obviously Ray had gotten him - but what had he done to Ray?

She needed help, and fast. "Jarvis!" she whisper-yelled into her phone, "Security code...shit - um, Echo Movie Signal...goddammit Tony, why do you make these so complicated?"

As she cursed her brother's fancy security codes the doors of the library shook. Whoever was trying to get in was trying the knobs. Though it was idiotic, she thanked them for giving her an extra few seconds.

"Security code Tony Little Sister Help Now Please!"

The screen of her phone lit up with a photo of Tony's face, "Calling Mr. Stark."

While the phone rang, she tossed it aside. She looked around for anything she could use as a bludgeon. Guns made her nervous so she didn't own any, but she made up for it with non-lethal weapons. A glint of light caught her attention, pulling her gaze over to the fireplace mantle. An antique French rapier hanging above the fireplace. If she couldn't overpower the assailant, at least she could cut him to ribbons.

Using a chair, she reached for it as the doors splintered inward, throwing shards of oak through the air. Eliza tried to shield her face, and fell backward off the chair. Her right elbow and shoulder took most of the impact of her fall, and her head cracked against the ground. Dizziness hit her and she heard the heavy footsteps clomping over to her.

Through blurred vision, she saw the man crouch in front of her. In the blackness of the room and the tunnel vision, she noticed that the lower part of his face was obscured. His light-colored eyes were empty and blank and as she raised her head she saw a big, glove-covered fist heading for her face.

* * *

"Her vitals are all normal, Sir, and there appears to be no internal damage," the doctor reassured. "But we'll want to keep her overnight for observation, and when she wakes up we'll run some more tests." Tony nodded and thanked her.

He sat next to Eliza, who was once again unconscious, holding an ice pack to her face. Whoever attacked her had a severe right hook - and if Tony ever found them they wouldn't have a chance to use it.

Captain America stood down by her feet, "That's good news, at least. Any idea who could've done this?"

"You think if I knew who did this I'd be sitting here right now?" Tony snapped back at the Captain. He'd been there when Tony got the call and insisted on coming with. They'd found Eliza in her library, face bruising and her left arm leaking blood onto her rug. Once they were sure the assailant was gone, Tony tended to Ray - who was in much worse shape than Eliza was. If the smashed furniture and dislodged photos were any indications, the bodyguard had put up a helluva fight. They'd put him in an ambulance, and Tony had called the man's ex-wife and son. They'd met him at the hospital still in their pajamas.

Tony sighed, "No. I don't know who could've done this. I'm sorry for snapping at you."

The Captain nodded, "It's alright. I understand." To his credit, Rogers had been nearly as upset and angry about the attack as Tony was. Under normal circumstances, this would've made him smirk and tease the Captain about his obvious feelings for Eliza. But Tony was too drained at the moment to attempt a sarcastic comment.

And that was saying something.

He hadn't been this anxious about Eliza's health since she was sixteen and had lost a ski on a black diamond in Vail. He'd had to watch her tumble down the rest of the mountain. Miraculously, she'd survived with only some bruised ribs and a broken arm. In comparison this wasn't that bad, but a voice inside him kept saying that there was more to this than met the eye.

The hole in her arm wasn't big, about the size of a large hypodermic needle. Someone wanted her blood, and he was pretty sure the American Red Cross wasn't that desperate for donations.

Her blood...shit, he was going to have to call Fury.

Eliza groaned and tried to turn on her side, but Tony stopped her and her eyes cracked open. "Hrgn? Tony, what-?"

"Eliza, you're at the hospital. You were attacked."

Her eyes snapped opened and she tried to sit up, "What? When? Where?"

"About two hours ago. I need you to lie still, kid," Tony explained, putting gentle hands on her shoulders to guide her back down. Her hazel eyes flashed with fear, and he grabbed her hand, "You're okay. I've got you. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you."

"Ray? Is Ray okay?" Her hazel eyes flashed with fear and she stared at Tony.

"He's downstairs in surgery. The doctors think he'll be fine."

Her eyes darted to the Captain, who had spoken. "Steve? What're you doing here?"

"Making sure you're alright," he answered and Tony could feel Eliza tense beneath him. Something had happened there, but he'd be damned if he knew what. Something of a romantical nature? That would explain why the Captain was so insistent on going with him when her distress call came in.

Dad would be proud, he thought.

Her face flushed and her hands fidgeted with themselves as she replied, "Oh. Well...thanks."

Yep. Something romantical. But he couldn't think on that now.

"Do you remember anything from tonight?" Tony asked a little more forcefully than necessary. Eliza shook her head.

The doctor returned and shooed the two men out of her room, much to Tony's chagrin. But he had some detective work to do in the meanwhile.

* * *

July 19

Today was the first time her formidable bodyguard ever looked small to Eliza, and even then she could barely see the mattress of the hospital bed underneath him. She hated hospitals and wanted to get out of there as soon as possible, but she'd made Tony stop the wheelchair in Ray's room. She sat next to his bed, watching the large man sleep.

He looked like hell. His left eye was completely swollen shut, his lower lip had stitches in it. Cuts and bruises littered his powerful arms, and Tony told her he'd had a punctured lung, three broken ribs, and a lacerated spleen. The doctors had fixed those in surgery, but his road to recovery wasn't over. He also had a broken shin bone, fractured radius, and broken skin all along his knuckles.

While logically she knew it wasn't her fault, that anyone who was charged with her protection would've suffered a similar fate, an ingot of guilt from dropped from a tall building slammed in her gut.

The door behind her opened and closed and a younger version of the sleeping man entered the room.

"Oh," he said, "I wasn't expecting anyone to be in here."

"How are you doing, Damon?" she asked the boy - barely fifteen, yet tall as his father and gangly as a baby giraffe.

"I'd be better if my dad wasn't in the hospital," Damon said, sitting in the chair next to Ray's bed. His dark eyes focused on Eliza and she could see the disdain in them. It made her shift in the wheelchair, the guilt tightening her stomach.

"That's no way to speak to a lady, young man," Ray rasped from his bed, eyes still closed. Damon shot to his feet to attend to his father.

"Dad, how are you? Should I call a nurse?"

"I'm fine boy, stop your fussing. Apologize to Miss Stark and go get me a cup of ice chips that'll somehow cure all ills," he demanded gently.

Damon muttered a half-hearted, "Sorry," and left the room. The only sound was the quiet beep-beep-beep of Ray's heart monitor.

"I'm so sorry, Miss Stark."

"That's entirely unnecessary, Ray."

"But-"

"No. You fought like hell to protect me. When you get better you've got two months of paid vacation and your job is secure. If you want to retire early - which I would totally understand if you did - you'll have enough money to do whatever the hell you want for the rest of your life." She held up a hand to stop him from protesting. She was going to take care of him and his family just as he'd taken care of her for the last seven years.

"I feel like I failed you," he admitted quietly. Eliza reached out and covered his large hand with her smaller one.

"You didn't. Thank you so much, Ray. For everything you do and have done."

The man smiled broadly, with a slight wince of pain from the stitches in his lip. "I got 'im in the leg with my chef knife. He wasn't gonna get far with a slice that deep."

Eliza smiled back at him. "Rest up, Ray. And don't worry about a thing. I've got you covered."

He turned his hand over in hers and squeezed it. "Thank you, Miss Stark."

Eliza held his hand a minute longer, then called for Tony. As he pushed her out to the waiting towncar she tried to remember what had happened two nights ago. She'd been reading in bed - she went out to the fire escape - then nothing until she woke up in the hospital a few hours later. Not being able to remember things unnerved her more than she was willing to admit. Over the last few days a few details had come back, but nothing substantial enough to help Steve and Tony in their investigation. A gloved fist. Her rapier. Blood on her carpet.

Tony helped her into the car, handling her as carefully as he would a butterfly despite her insistence that she was fine. Indeed, she was. Another ugly bruise on her face, but that would heal soon enough. Guilt rose in her again - she should be the one laying beaten and broken in the hospital, not sweet, funny Ray with his son and ex-wife to take care of.

"How's the old guy doing?" Tony asked as Happy pulled them into traffic, heading toward the tower instead of her house. The arc reactor needed to be entirely rebuilt, and Tony didn't think it was secure enough in the meantime.

"He's gonna be fine," she muttered, watching the buildings pass out the window. Tony put a hand on her shoulder.

"Kid, you can't blame yourself for this."

"I know."

"I'm calling in a favor to help us find the person who did this," he explained gently, "We'll find him and make him pay."

She turned and offered Tony a weak smile in response, "Thanks, brother."

He moved his hand behind her neck and pulled her toward him, kissing her forehead. "Anything for you, kid."

She leaned on his shoulder for the rest of the ride, pleasantly comforted by his presence as she always had been.

* * *

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	7. Won't You Have A Clue

**Okay, so this is a BIG chapter. Big revelations ahead. You've been warned.**

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 **Lucky Number Chapter 7...or not. We'll see...**

* * *

Eliza woke up the next morning with a post-it on her forehead. She pulled it off and saw Tony's handwriting.

'My office. As soon as you wake up. No shower, no delay, just get upstairs. Love ya, Tony'

Eliza groaned and rolled out of bed, pulling on a fluffy robe and sticking her feet in the first pair of shoes she found. She walked to the elevator with heavy feet and pushed the 'down' button.

"Miss Stark, thank you for meeting with me," Director Fury was standing in front of Tony's desk, Tony was sitting behind it, his feet up on the desk nonchalantly.

She wasn't nervous, but something in his tone suggested she should be.

"What is this about?" She asked.

"Take a seat, Lize, Fury needs to talk to you about something," Tony said, motioning to the chair across from him. Eliza kept an eye on Fury, his one good eye staring her down. She obliged.

"Miss Stark, have you ever heard of Project Renaissance?" Fury asked, leaning on Tony's desk. Tony was stone-faced and she could see his jaw tense. Fury passed a folder over to her as he spoke.

"Is that a code for Project Rebirth?" she asked, eyeing the folder in her hand. Steve had given her a run down on the original project during their sessions, applauding her depiction of it in her book.

"Not quite. It was an project undertaken by SHIELD in the early 1980's to try to create genetically predestined super soldiers," Fury explained as she opened the file. Tony rose to his feet and moved closer to the window, clasping his hands behind his back and remaining silent.

"Genetically predestined...how did they accomplish that?" she asked, leafing through the papers.

"They injected embryos with the serum while they were developing in utero. It affected the stem cells and altered the DNA at a slower pace than the direct injection Rogers received. The idea was that the affected DNA would lie dormant until exposed to vita-rays to activate, which was the second part of the original project."

Eliza nodded, an appraising frown on her lips. It seemed a reasonable goal. In the original project, the vita-ray generator had required its own power grid, which it had blown out. Her father's account of the project explained that the vita-rays took much more energy to generate than he'd previously thought. If he were to do the project again, he'd written, he would've upgraded to a full gigawatt grid.

Flipping to the next page, she found some familiar signatures. These signatures had been in her birthday cards, on her school permission slips, and had even shown up on some presents from Santa. She paused. The signatures were on the bottom of what appeared to be a release form.

"This is my parent's handwriting. What did they have to do with this? Tony?" She looked up at Fury, who had leaned back and crossed his arms across his chest. Her brother remained silent and facing out the window.

"Five women with close ties to SHIELD underwent in vitro fertilization, and out of those five three of the women got pregnant and started the serum injections. Only one of them carried to term. That one woman was your mother, Maria Stark. Your father was head of the project, as he had access to a blood sample from Captain Rogers. That's how he replicated the serum. You, Elizabeth Stark, are a genetically predestined super soldier."

"Wh-no...I'm…I'm just...normal..." Eliza flipped through the papers faster, her ears ringing so she couldn't hear anything but her own pulse in her ears. Fury was still talking, but she couldn't distinguish individual words.

The very last items in the file were a copy of her birth certificate, and a photo of her mother, father, and her as a newborn. She had the same photo in a frame on her dresser. Her hands suddenly felt clammy and she struggled to breathe.

A panic attack was on her immediate horizon, so she closed her eyes and focused on slowing down her breathing.

"Would you like a glass of water?" Fury asked, his words finally coming through.

"Peppermint tea, please," she asked quietly, knowing the hot brew would calm her. To her surprise, Tony took long steps over to prepare her tea. She accepted the hot mug from him, and when Fury tried to resume the conversation she shook her head and held up a finger to ask him to stop talking for a moment. Once her thoughts had slowed to a normal pace, she lowered it.

"I know this must be a lot for you to take in, especially in light of recent developments, but the reason I bring this up with you is because SHIELD can provide the necessary equipment to finish the process."

"F-finish the process?" she asked. "Wh-why would I want to...to do that?"

Fury shifted, "We have reason to believe that this is the reason you were attacked. You were about a pint low when they got to you. Finishing the project will give you the strength to protect yourself from another attack."

She opened and closed her mouth, trying to think of something to say but coming up empty. It all felt...wrong. If her father had his way, she would be just like Steve. Someone's super soldier puppet to pull out for propaganda purposes and dangerous missions and she wasn't sure she was even slightly okay with that.

Eliza dove through the papers again, devouring the contents as quickly as she could. Why was Tony so silent? Fury kept speaking, but Eliza's head was full of cotton and the heavy beating of her heart.

Howard Stark had proposed the project to the SHIELD board once the serum had successfully been separated from Steve's blood in late 1982 (a nearly 12-year process). Apparently, he had already spoken to his wife, Maria, and she'd agreed to participate in the project, codenamed 'Renaissance'. To keep the project under wraps, even from the larger body of the organization, they agreed that their subjects should be women irrevocably tied to SHIELD's upper echelons. They made a list of five names, her mother included, and created zygotes from those women and their husbands. In vitro fertilization yielded three viable fetuses, and they started the serum injections. Every week, directly into the uterus in the hopes that it would affect the stem cells. It was enough to alter the DNA in the stem cells, but only one of the fetuses made it through gestation.

Elizabeth Maria Stark, born November 6th, 1983.

Eliza gripped her cup, feeling the heat start to burn the nerve endings in her fingers. It was just as Fury said.

The exposure to vita-rays was to happen on her eighteenth birthday. Handwritten notes from her father indicated that he planned on telling her of her altered genetics when she turned ten.

" _Though I don't know what Eliza's future holds, she is an exceptionally intelligent girl and will certainly grow into a beautiful, wonderful woman. It is my belief that she would do so even without the serum. I am proud to be her father, and would be so even if she were not the legacy of the star-spangled man with a plan. She is my legacy as well, and Maria's, even more so than Steve's. I have included an overview of the project and what it entails in my will, so she will know who she is if I meet my demise before we have a chance to tell her. It may not be an ideal way to find out, but it's better than her being in the dark for the rest of her life."_

The note was dated just after her sixth birthday, over two years before his death. Undoubtedly, the will addendum had been there after he died. She had never seen her father's will. When he'd died she was too young to understand, and by the time she was old enough to care she and Tony had worked out all of her financial concerns and she saw no point. But that left an uncomfortable question hanging in her mind; Tony had most definitely seen the will. He must've seen the documentation about Project Renaissance.

He knew. Why hadn't he told her?

She sat there, staring at her brother who had resumed his spot in front of the window. Her mind was frantically searching for an answer to the question that was reverberating around in her skull. Her knees felt weak and her palms were sweaty, but she held the file tight against her chest and steeled her nerves as she got to her feet. She wavered a bit, prompting Fury to move toward her - apparently she wasn't fully recovered from her attack - but she waved him off, her eyes fixed on her brother. Eliza strode over to him and slammed the file against the back of his head.

"What the hell?" Tony demanded, rubbing the back of his head and holding out his hand to tell Fury it was okay. He could handle his sister's rage.

Her voice was tight as a drum, "How could you not tell me about this, Anthony?"

"How would you describe your relationship with dad?" He strode over to the espresso machine in the corner and began preparing himself a drink, annoyingly nonchalant in his manner. This was life-changing news, and he seemed to be shrugging it off. By this point, Fury had disappeared - to where Eliza neither knew nor cared.

"What?"

"You heard me, How would you describe your relationship and your memories of our father. Pre-this, that is."

She shrugged, "I don't know. Good. Warm and fuzzy."

He pointed at her with the hand that held the espresso cup, "And now?"

Her hands clenched, her blood felt like it was on fire, but she held back. When Eliza answered, her tone darkened even more, "I hate him. I hate you. I hate what he did to me. I hate that he - you - didn't tell me. I hate that all I was to him was a science project, not a daughter."

"That's why," Tony explained simply, putting the cup behind him as he finished the espresso.

"So you lied to me for twenty years so...what? I could hold onto the good memories of Dad?" She picked up the file and clutched it to her chest.

"Look, big man in the sky knows that my relationship with dad was rocky at best. But he loved you. And I didn't want to be the guy to ruin that for you."

"Don't you realize what this means for me, Tony? I don't know who I am anymore!" She could feel the panic spreading through her body; like a rabid tiger in a cage begging for release. Her limbs started trembling, her breathing was ragged.

"I was going to tell you over lunch a few weeks ago. But then…" Tony's face went blank for a second before he reined himself in, "And then after that you and the star spangled man with a plan began hanging out, and then you were attacked..."

"All I'm hearing is excuses. For something like this, you make time! This why I was attacked! You didn't think I deserved to know that my entire life I've had a target on my back?!"

"I looked out for you! I protected you, and when I knew I wouldn't be able to anymore I was going to tell you!"

"Why now? Why won't you be able to protect me anymore? And who says I can't protect myself?" she demanded, tossing the file onto his desk.

"I'm your brother, I'll always want to protect you. The tower is all but done, Pepper and I will be going back to California soon and besides, you've got your strapping old man to keep you safe," Tony explained, a hint of bitterness in his tone. Tony had always resented Steve, feeling as if he could never measure up to the long-dead Captain in his father's mind. Maybe he was right, but that gave him no right...

"Don't bring Steve into this," she warned.

"And by the way, what do you think ol' Capsicle will think of this? The fact that our father groomed you from conception to be just like him? Hmm?"

Eliza didn't take his bait. She wrapped her arms around herself and dug her fingernails into the flesh of her upper arms, hoping the little bit of pain would help ground her. Tony moved from his position by the kitchenette and walked over to her.

"You know you're have to tell him, right?" Eliza shook her head as a hole opened up in her chest. Tony sighed, "You have to. He deserves to know."

"Oh, he deserves to know but I don't?! You kept this from me for twenty years, Tony! You knew! You knew all this time and you never told me! You waited for Fury to do it and then gave me some crapass excuse to repudiate yourself of any blame!" She screamed at him, the rabid tiger leaping from the cage.

"I like how you use 'crapass' and 'repudiate' in the same sentence. You've always had a way with words."

"Shut up! Do you have any idea how I feel right now? I don't know which way is up! Like I was just thrown into this abyss of information that I have no idea what to do with! I have not even begun to be able to process this, but yeah I should tell Steve because that would make our friendship super not weird at all!"

"Yeah, I know the feeling," he muttered. His deep brown eyes floated toward the door, but she ignored his mournful look and continued.

"You should've told me. No matter how fucked up you are from the Chuthari," She knew it was a low blow, but she had to say it. "Oh, come on. I know you Tony, I can tell when something's wrong. I can also tell when something's really really wrong...no matter what, you should've been the one to tell me this."

"Yeah well apparently I've been failing you your whole life, what's one more disappointment?" he bit back. She took a step back, his words hitting her harder than she expected.

She picked up the file again with an icy, "Screw you, Tony."

With that, she turned and ran from his office, ignoring her brother's protests, back to the room Tony had appointed as 'hers' upon retrofitting the tower to make it livable for the Avengers.

The room was nicely furnished - decorated in a style similar to her brownstone with throw pillows and blankets on every sitting surface, including the bed. Tony had even put up some vintage movie posters and gotten her a record player and a respectable stack of vinyl records. It didn't hurt that the view of the city at night was breathtaking, but she didn't take it in as she crossed to the bed and flopped onto it on her back, staring up at the plain ceiling.

She felt wrong. She was so vastly different than she had been the last time she'd been in this room, even if that had only been half an hour ago. A sharp pain began bouncing through her skull. She debated on changing into pajamas and crawling under the lush covers, but that felt to akin to admitting defeat.

So she opened the file. It felt like the key to understanding her new self was hidden in the reports and schematics and legalese forms. Rationally, she knew it wasn't there. But damned if she wasn't going to try.

* * *

Tony didn't even consider sleep that night. He made his way up to his lab poured himself into Mark 41, adjusting the thrust as he grumbled to himself.

He knew Eliza was right. He should've grown a pair and told her after the Battle of New York. Hell, he should've told her when she was ten like his father had intended, but he'd been on a bender in Belize for her tenth birthday...or was it Kuala Lumpur? It didn't matter.

This was something that had been easy for him to back burner, but how many times had they hung out while he was building Stark Tower? In the last twenty years, he'd had countless opportunities to bring up Project Renaissance. But he didn't.

 _...no matter what, you should've been the one to tell me this…_

She was right, of course. She was so right.

In truth, he'd pretty much forgotten about it until Fury approached him about the Avengers Initiative. Fury's intent was to complete the project and make Eliza part of the team, but Tony knew that would never fly with her.

Eliza was a free spirit. She wasn't one to blindly follow orders or respect a chain of command. He had known her answer before he even asked, so he didn't bother bringing it up. His hesitance had caused her grief, and he cursed himself for it.

He accidentally closed a thrust vent on his hand, cursing loudly as he did so. He shook out his hand and inspected it. Not seeing any permanent damage, he got back to work.

About ten minutes later Jarvis interrupted his train of thought, "Sir, you asked me to give you updates on activity in your apartments?"

"Yeah?" Tony grunted, adjusting a bolt.

"It appears that there has been no activity whatsoever since the door opened at 8:37 pm."

"My apartment is empty?"

"It appears so, Mr. Stark."

"But...where's Eliza?"

"I would suggest installing an RFID tracking device on your sister's person in order to track her movements more precisely."

Tony would've rolled his eyes if his brain hadn't flown into a blind panic. What if she'd left? Gone back to her house in the Village even though it wasn't secured yet? What if she'd tripped and fallen out a window?

"Jarvis, track down -"

"Captain Rogers is attempting to reach you, Sir. Shall I put him through?"

Rogers? What the hell would he need at nearly one in the morning? "Put him through," Tony agreed, "Have a bad dream, Cap?"

"Just thought I'd give you a heads up that Eliza is gonna be staying on my floor for a few days," Rogers reported, ever the soldier. "Seems like she's really upset, wouldn't tell me why. Any ideas?"

Tony felt a pang of something in his chest and paused for so long that he heard, "Stark? Did you hear me?"

Tony shook his head and replied, "Yeah, I heard you. Thanks for the update."

He hung up on the supersoldier, a wave of relief rushing over him. She was still in the tower. She was safe. That pang of something hit him again and he left the lab, grabbing himself a highball glass half-full of whiskey on the way down to the party deck.

Tony walked out into the heat of mid-July New York. The city glittered beneath him, and he was thankful for the breeze this far off the ground. He should've told her. How could he expect her to trust him now? How could he protect her if she didn't trust him?

The icy anger in her eyes flashed in his mind and he tensed. He'd only seen her that angry a few times, and it had been a long time. For how laid-back she usually was, she could level buildings when she wanted to. He was a little surprised that the tower was still standing.

 _...apparently I've been failing you your whole life, what's one more disappointment?_

The words echoed in his sleep-deprived mind as he gripped the highball glass tighter. He had said it out of spite at the time, but he knew spite was a double edged sword. The words were meant to hurt her, and in reality they had sliced through Tony as well.

He felt the whiskey sting the cuts in his hand before he'd even realized that he'd broken the glass.

* * *

 **WHAT?! ELIZA IS A WHAT?**

 **TONY KNEW?! WHAT AN ASSHOLE!**

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	8. I Can't See You Every Night

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* * *

Tony woke up early the next morning and did something he rarely did. He used his kitchen to make something more than a cup of coffee. The silver tray expertly balanced on one hand (he'd seen enough servers do the same; it was pretty difficult to replicate), he rode the elevator down three floors to Captain Rogers' apartment and knocked politely on the door.

The annoyingly handsome Captain answered, eyeing Tony and the silver-domed platter with a bit of suspicion. "What brings you here?"

"I have something for Eliza," Tony informed him, trying to look past the obscenely broad shoulders in his way, "Is she up yet?" The Captain stood protectively in the doorway, keeping the door pressed against his side.

"She's in the shower," Steve said, cheeks pinkening with the mention. Tony smirked and held out the tray to him.

"See that she gets these. Make sure she knows they're from me," he said before turning on his heel and ascending back up to his rooms.

Steve didn't have to wait long to present Eliza with the silver-domed tray. Her hair damp, she walked out of the bathroom fully dressed and looking a little less tired than she had last night. He took that as a good sign.

"Your brother dropped that off for you," he said, motioning to the dome on the kitchen island before turning to make coffee. Eliza sat on the opposite side and pulled the tray towards herself. He heard her lift the lid and scoff.

Steve turned back around. He didn't know what he'd been expecting to be under the cover; a small bottle of whiskey perhaps, or a badly burned stack of bacon, maybe even a pile of money, but not what sat in front of Eliza. Three large, perfectly golden-brown waffles with what looked like chocolate chips and sprinkles inside them, smothered with butter and syrup and whipped cream. Looking at Eliza for clarification, she only sat there, staring at them blankly.

"Rat bastard," she muttered after a few moments, picking up the fork and digging in. Steve poured some coffee for each of them, added a splash of cream to Eliza's, and sat down next to her.

"What's that all about?" he asked, nodding at the waffles.

She wiped her mouth with a napkin and didn't look at him. "It's a brother-sister thing...sort of a comfort slash apology food."

"Apology food?"

"I crashed his brand new Maserati when I was fifteen, so I made him some to apologize and it became a way for us to say sorry without, you know, having to speak to each other."

"Oh, I see," Steve said. "What does he have to apologize for now?"

Eliza sighed and put her fork down, her hazel eyes looking at him. "It's...too much to explain right now. I'm still...processing new information."

"Well, I'm here if you want to talk about it. Whatever it is," Steve offered, not wanting to push her into talking. She'd shown up at his door the previous night with puffy red eyes and a raspy voice, like she'd been crying for a while. They'd had a glass of whiskey each before she complained of a headache and he showed her to the spare room. He wasn't sure why Stark had given him a spare room in the first place, but now he was glad he had one to offer Eliza.

She looked better this morning after some sleep and a shower. Something behind her eyes still appeared to be missing. He pushed the thought away. Fury would say that allowing her to stay with him while there were three unoccupied apartments was much too close for them to be. Hell, sitting this close to her was too close for Fury's comfort, but Steve could tell she needed someone at the moment. The reason she showed up last night couldn't be something small - with the curt reply from her brother last night and the tear-stained cheeks she'd sported it was something big.

He just wished he knew what.

Without warning, Eliza slid off of the tall chair and disappeared into her room only to return a moment later with an official-looking folder. She got back into the chair next to Steve and clutched the folder to her chest like a child holding her teddy bear.

"Before I show you, you have to promise not to freak out," she prefaced, tired eyes pleading with him.

Steve's eyes narrowed and he couldn't help the confused smile that appeared, "Um, okay?"

Eliza paused for a while, as if reconsidering her move. However, she glanced down at the folder and turned, resting it on the island in front of him. The folder itself was a little beat up and yellowed with age, but on the front Steve recognized the standard military font he'd seen on so many similar files.

PROJECT RENAISSANCE

TOP SECRET

His fingers ghosted over the front and he looked over at Eliza, who was watching his hands intently. Her brown waves fell in her face, obscuring the look in her eyes. He could see that her lips were pursed together tightly and her hands were tight fists in her lap. Whatever was in that folder was big. Monumental. Probably life changing.

"You sure you're okay with me reading this?" He asked her. She nodded slightly, reaching for her coffee.

Well, if she insisted, he thought. Then he opened the folder and began to read.

* * *

When Stark had asked her for a favor, Natasha was hesitant to say the least. She didn't owe him anything, but she couldn't resist the pull of the investigation. His little sister - a hitherto unknown genetic supersoldier - had been attacked by person or persons unknown. She stood in the brownstone, the air quiet and still around her, looking for anything that could lead her to the attacker. Natasha wasn't sure exactly what she was looking for. The attacker had cut the security camera feed and hadn't left any DNA or fingerprints that she could find, but she'd promised Stark she would check it out.

The arc reactor in the basement was completely destroyed - Stark was working on fixing and reinforcing it. She'd combed over the bodyguard's apartment, retracing the steps of the two men as they fought. From the blood splatter and the crushed furniture she could tell that it had for sure been two men - the attacker having at least as much body mass as Rogers.

The first floor was untouched, as was most of the second floor. The library - where it had all happened - was still a mess. The doors broken inward, chips of the wood scattered across the floor. A chair next to the mantlepiece was tipped over and one of the swords hanging on the wall was askew business end up - like the younger Stark had grabbed for it as a last-ditch way to dispatch her would-be dispatcher.

The girl had spunk, there was no denying that.

Something about this wasn't right. No way the attacker could have subdued her bodyguard without taking a few hits themselves. The bulky bodyguard could do some serious damage to a normal person, that was why Stark had hired him. Then again, all signs pointed to someone abnormal being her attacker.

Someone super-human.

A pair of empty eyes flashed in her head, a metal arm flying at her, but she shook off the feeling. No way the Winter Soldier had anything to do with this. He hadn't been active in years. For all she knew, he was dead.

But still, something in the back of her mind rang that bell. If it was true - which she highly doubted it was, but decided to check it out nonetheless - then Eliza Stark was in serious trouble.

* * *

Steve's reaction wasn't as severe as Eliza's, but she could tell he wasn't happy about it. Once he'd finished the file he'd gone for a long walk and Eliza had gone to the gym.

In fact, she'd been spending more and more time at the gym in the last few days. Mostly trying to avoid Steve, but also to block out the feeling of absolute helplessness. Her friend and trainer, Namir, had been granted access to the tower to help her train. She spent hours in front of punching bags and on the treadmill, done countless reps on every machine available, and would only find her way back to the spare room in Steve's apartment when every limb was shaking and weak.

So when her joints screamed with soreness, she thought nothing of it. She'd been going hard for nearly a week now, and didn't plan on slowing down.

As she finished a set of box jumps, Namir put his hand on her shoulder and turned her toward him.

"Lize, I think that's enough for today," he said, concern etched on his features. Eliza shook her sweat-soaked head.

"I've got more in me," she insisted. She tried to turn back to the box for another set, but Namir's strong hands landed heavily on her shoulders and he looked her dead in the eye.

"You don't need to have more," he said firmly, his brown eyes taking in the purple half-moons under her eyes and the downward angle her lips had adopted in recent days, "You are not responsible for your attack. You are not responsible for Ray being attacked. I know you've got more in you, but you don't have to, Eliza."

Exhaustion and emotion took over her. He was right; he had an uncanny ability to see beyond her actions and pinpoint the cause of her stresses. She sagged into his hold and he brought her closer and kissed her hair.

"I just...I need to control something right now," she choked out, not trusting her voice as her throat grew thick with emotion. Tears welled in her eyes and she tried to blink them away. She hated having people see her cry - she was a Stark, and Starks were stronger than that. But what she'd emoted had been true. In the span of thirty six hours she'd lost her feeling of safety, her sense of identity, and her trust in her brother. Sure, she and Tony would patch things up and she knew for certain that the Tower was the safest place for her to be, but her identity was still murky at best.

She was Howard Stark's greatest project, and now all of his stories glorifying Captain America made sense. He was grooming her to want to be like the Captain, preparing her for the day she would be. But was that what he had intended? She didn't think so. Knowing her father he most likely just wanted to see if it could be done, and then apply a practical purpose to it.

Namir led her over to the free weights and sat her down on a bench. He sat down next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

"I just...I don't know...Did he ever love me?" she half-whispered. "Did they even want me?"

"Of course they did," Namir reassured, squeezing her shoulder. "Even if they didn't know it at first, I'm sure they loved you so much."

"I feel so lost, Nam," she sobbed, resting her head on his shoulder. He rubbed her back and uttered soothing words while she cried out the last weeks' pain and frustration and sadness and anger.

He didn't speak again until the worst was over.

"I know you feel untethered right now, but if you keep going like this you're going to hurt yourself. It's okay to slow down, take a breather. You've just had a bunch of new stuff thrown at you, it's okay if you need time to process," he said, one hand reaching up and wiping away a tear.

"Thanks," she said, sniffling lightly. "I needed that."

"That's my girl," he said with a broad smile. "And you know who I think could help you with this whole identity crisis?"

She shook her head.

"Your brother. You should go talk to him, person to person, not just via Jarvis or texts or those nasty ass waffles you two make."

Eliza sighed, knowing that he was right and hating him a little for it. Tony had known her her whole life, and they were siblings after all. The only family either of them had left.

"I need to do something first," she said, shifting out of Namir's embrace and rising to her feet.

"What's that?"

"Shower."

Namir laughed heartily and while she knew things could never be the exactly like they had been, having a friend like Namir made the transition a little easier. He was quick with a laugh, a joke, a word of advice. It was a big reason why she'd kept going to his studio for private self-defense lessons after Tony returned from being kidnapped, which was how they'd become friends.

"Desmond and I are having people over on Saturday if you wanna join us," he offered as they made their way to the elevators.

"Tony doesn't think it's safe for me to leave the tower yet. Not until they figure out who attacked me," she explained casually, pushing the 'up' button while he pushed 'down.'

"Makes sense. Thought I'd extend the invitation anyway."

"How is that fiance of yours?" she inquired about Desmond.

"Busy as ever. They're opening a new bakery on the Upper East Side, so he's dealing with building plans and zoning commissioners and all kinds of insanity. And you know him, as brilliant a businessman as he is a baker, so he's having the time of his life." Namir's eyes warmed and Eliza's heart swelled for him. Watching him talk about his beloved always made her so incredibly happy for him, but not without a hint of bitterness. She'd had that once. She wasn't sure it would ever happen again.

"Well, tell Desmond that I miss him. And that chocolate tart thing he makes."

"I sure will. If you need to talk, you can call me. Anytime." The down elevator arrived before hers and the doors swung open. Namir promised to text her and kissed her cheek before he climbed into the glass and steel box.

Her talk with Tony went about as well as she could've hoped for, with only mild screaming and hair-pulling, but she knew it was the right thing to do. The Stark siblings were okay again. Tony admitted she was right and swore up and down there was nothing else life-changing that he was keeping from her, but she knew he still wasn't sleeping as well as he should be. Whether it was guilt or something worse, she didn't know.

She credited their talk for the splitting headache she had as she rode the elevator back to the apartment she shared with Steve. Tony had mentioned her moving back up into his lavish abode, but she decided against it. She was sick of moving for the moment.

The ache in her joints was back and her head throbbed. Namir was right, she needed to take a few days off of the gym to recover. A small voice at the back of her mind told her it was more than that, but she ignored it and leaned against the cool metal walls of the elevator to help ease her various aches and pains.

It didn't help.

The pain seemed to take on a life of its own, sliding up from her knees and climbing her spine like a jungle snake, shooting from her shoulder to wrist like a broken electrical circuit, thumping behind her eyes like bad dubstep.

Every inch of her body hurt, and it was all she could do to not cry out.

When the elevator door pinged and opened, she forced herself to walk across the hall and reach for the door handle. Her feet were leaden and protested every step, her lungs were suddenly on fire and she struggled to breathe. Instead of opening the door she tripped over her own feet and landed against it shoulder-first, causing a whole new kind of pain to explode from the site of impact. Letting herself slide down the door and sit on the floor seemed like a reasonable option. She'd rest there for a while, then continue her efforts to get inside.

Every nerve in her body - and indeed, Eliza herself - screamed when the door opened and she fell backwards, landing on Steve's shins and looking up at him. His mouth was moving, but all she could hear was her erratic heartbeat in her ears.

Something was very, very wrong but she had no idea what. Steve crouched beside her and touched her shoulder, lightly shaking trying to get her attention, but even that had her wailing in pain. Tears pricked her eyes. All she knew then was pain. This was it, this was how she died. No, she only wanted to die. Wanted to scream, cry, kick, anything that would stop the pain.

She wasn't aware of Steve yelling at Jarvis, and didn't feel him pick her up and rush toward the elevator, swearing like a sailor and hoping that Tony would know what to do.

She also didn't notice when her body gave up and she drifted into sweet blackness from which she neither knew nor cared if she'd ever wake from.

* * *

 **ELIZA ARE YOU OKAY, ARE YOU OKAY, ARE YOU OKAY LIZA?!**

 **Forgive me, I couldn't resist a Michael Jackson reference. Let me know what you think in a review!**

 **Thank you for reading, I hope you find $20 in your coat pocket.**

 **XOXO, Meghan**


	9. Free

**So Sorry for the delay, my lovelies! I have been focusing on other projects, like applying to GRAD SCHOOL. I'm still kind of freaking out about it. Anyway, on with the usual.**

 **I am forever grateful to anyone who Followed/Favorited/Reviewed. Indeed, the positive feedback I've received over the years on this site gave me the confidence necessary to try and make writing my career and apply to Grad School. You are all greatly appreciated and I am humbled by your praise.**

* * *

Tony hadn't taken her to the hospital this time; instead, he brought the hospital to her. The bench under her butt was cold through the yoga pants she wore while she awaited the stoic and beautiful Dr. Cho. It had been a week since her first episode, and she'd had two more since.

Eliza hoped with every fiber of her being that the doctor had an answer for her today. Over the last few days they'd run every test and scan imaginable, the doctor had taken the evening to analyze the results, and now Eliza couldn't help but fidget on the table. She wished she'd grabbed a sweatshirt on her way up, but her anxiety over the results had kept her up all night and frazzled her brain.

"Good morning, Miss Stark," Dr. Cho said as she floated into the room. Eliza thought she must've been a dancer in another life with how gracefully the doctor moved, gliding to the chair across from the exam table.

"Morning," Eliza mumbled. Usually not a fan of small talk and pleasantries, today especially she wanted to get right down to the matter at hand. Luckily, the doctor was of a similar disposition.

"So it appears that the serum in your DNA is starting to decay, which is causing an almost autoimmune like reaction in your cells."

"That's what's causing these...episodes?"

The doctor nodded, "If my analysis is correct, which I'm sure it is, the serum was never meant to stay this long in your system without the reinforcement of the vita-rays. You need to take the vita-ray treatment in order to stop the decay. The sooner the better."

"And...if I don't take the treatment?"

A slightly perplexed look flashed across the doctor's serene face, as if to ask "Why would you not?" But instead, she replied with the professional answer.

"You will be in pain for the rest of your life, which probably wouldn't be very long."

"Oh," Eliza said. She'd mostly asked because of her natural curiosity. She hadn't expected such a blunt and honest answer. "So it's take the treatment or die?"

"Yes," the doctor answered. "And since you've made it clear from the beginning that you don't want SHIELD involved in any way, I've already sent the files to your brother. We'll have you cured soon enough!"

Cured. As if she just had some sort of infection rather than a serious DNA defect. Defect - that word pinged around her brain for a moment before disappearing as fast as it arrived.

Cured.

Defect.

Freak.

"Is that all?" she asked, her tone suddenly snippy. She wanted nothing more than to leave, and was relieved when the doctor nodded.

Eliza descended a few RD floors to where Jarvis had told her Tony was. The lab was warm, "Moneytalks" blasted throughout the room, and she expected to see Tony welding parts for his latest suit, but she found him in a corner, speaking quietly with a familiar stunning redhead.

"-no way to know for sure-"

"I wasn't asking you for sure, I was asking you for a lead!"

Eliza cleared her throat and the two of them turned around. Tony's face showed a brief surprise, but he hid it behind an easy smile. Natasha's face remained - unsurprisingly - neutral. She wondered briefly if the woman ever showed any emotion at all.

"Hey, brother," she said in a low lilt.

"Lize, good that you're here," Tony exclaimed before turning to Natasha, "Romanoff was just telling me about the lack of leads she has on who attacked you."

"Oh, great," Eliza acknowledged, not really paying attention to the gorgeous spy. "I need to talk to you about something...private."

"Right-o, see ya later spidey," he said to Natasha quite rudely, but Eliza was too tired to care. Cursing under her breath in Russian, Natasha strode out of the room.

"Dr. Cho forwarded you her results. What do you think?"

"Yeah, so this vita-ray thing needs to happen or...what exactly?" he said, waving at the floating results. She'd somehow missed that they were already hovering over his desktop, which made her think that Natasha had seen them. If that was the case, she thought, make a mental note to pummel Tony after the super strength kicks in.

"Or I'll continue to have these episodes and eventually die."

"Well I'm all for you not dying." Tony turned to face her fully now, the stupid smirk still on his face. "C'mon, I got a thing to show you."

He exited the room they were in and led her down the hallway, practically skipping with excitement. Like a little kid on their way out to recess, Tony seemed to vibrate with anticipation.

He paused in front of a plain steel access door and input a code on the number panel display. The door slid aside to reveal a room that resembled an old surgery theater. A circular catwalk ran along the curved walls of the room, one direction leading to a metal staircase and the other leading to a small control room with a large window cut out of the front of it. Below them sat some very official-looking equipment and a large pod that looked like it could break the sound barrier if given the chance.

"What is all this?" she asked, even though she felt like she knew the answer.

Tony spread his arms wide, "This is the end of your troubles. I started building this after Fury suggested that he might want to put up the funds and equipment necessary to finish your transformation - if that's what happens, I'm not really sure about the details. I knew even before Cho-sephine told me that you'd never want any part of the SHIELD life, so I figured I would make it happen. That way you aren't obligated to anyone. Except me. But I'm your brother, so - oof!"

Tony didn't get to finish his grand speech because Eliza had slammed herself into his chest, squeezing him around the stomach in a tight hug. He'd known. He'd taken into consideration that she wouldn't like being beholden to any agency, that her life was entirely her own. While this didn't wipe out his past mistakes, it helped to know that under it all he was still in her corner.

"I have to put the finishing touches on it - spinning rims, bitchin' paint job - but I can get it up and running by tomorrow," Tony explained as Eliza looked up at him with every bit of admiration she could muster.

She kissed his cheek and let go of him, thanking him as she bounded back toward the elevator. In less than a day she would be cured - her DNA would stabilize and not cause her pain anymore.

Relief flooded her mind as she practically skipped to the elevator, coming to a dead stop as she realized something she'd forgotten.

She had to talk to Steve. They hadn't really had time since he rushed her to Tony after her first attack, and now that she was basically forced to take the vita-ray treatment she needed to speak to the one other person on the planet who had gone through something similar. If not to find out what to expect, then to clear the air between them.

The kitchen was sparsely stocked, really only the basics, but she could work with that. She browned the beef and added spices, her sauce simmering as the water for pasta boiled. As usual, she resorted to food to gain or regain the favor of one of her friends. While she worked, she had rehearsed what she was going to say to him, all the questions she wanted to ask, how she could move back upstairs with Tony if the situation made him uncomfortable.

Steve entered the apartment and did a double take as he passed the kitchen. His t-shirt was criminally tight and soaked with sweat, and his blonde hair was disheveled. Good god, he wore those pants well. Her jaw dropped a little bit, but she quickly hid her astonishment and pushed the lustful thoughts out of her mind.

"Hey," he said in a daze.

"Hey," she replied, dumping the meat into the sauce, "I need to talk to you, so I thought I'd make you some food. If that's okay, if you're not busy or anything."

She wiped her hands on a dish towel she'd flung over her shoulder and turned to Steve, who nodded.

"Yeah, that's just fine," he said, "Mind if I shower first?"

She smiled, "I encourage it."

He nodded and disappeared down the hall. Eliza watched him go with her head tilted to one side, sort of staring into space, sort of admiring the view.

She hid her urge to fidget by stirring the sauce a few more times, but she couldn't seem to calm her nerves. How was she going to tell him? She needed his advice; only he had experienced something similar. Albeit seventy-some years ago, with much less advanced technology and direct exposure to the vita-rays.

It occurred to her then that she had no idea what was going to happen in the pod. What if she came out as a carbon copy of Steve - even though she'd made sure there was no trace of his DNA anywhere in her genome. What if her DNA was too far gone to save? The serum was meant to amplify whatever was inside a person, so the possibility was there that it could intensify her already excruciating episodes.

She leaned her back against the cabinets and slid down them until she rested on the floor, paralysed by all the What If monsters flying around in her head. Steve found her there a few minutes later, her fists clenched into tight balls as she hugged her knees to her chest.

"Eliza? You okay? Should I get Tony?" he asked, panic edging around his tone.

She snapped out of her haze, blinking up at him a few times. "Yeah, sorry. I'm just a little tired is all."

"I bet." He extended a hand down and helped her up.

"So there's spaghetti, garlic bread," she started, but a hand on her shoulder stopped her from babbling.

"What's going on? You saw the doctor this morning, right?" Concern etched his glorious features but Eliza couldn't bring herself to look at him. Instead, she reached up and grabbed him a plate.

"Right," she confirmed. Her mild anxiety about this moment had made every thoughtful question she'd manage to cobble together fly out of her head. As she scrambled to get them all back, she didn't realize how quiet the room had gotten until Steve prompted her to elaborate.

"What'd she say?"

With a steadying breath, Eliza turned around and unconsciously clutched the plate to her chest as if the thing would shield her from whatever came her way.

"My DNA is decaying, and I need to finish Project Renaissance or I'll die," she blurted. Not as eloquently as she'd rehearsed, but she'd gotten to the point. That was what really mattered.

"Oh," Steve's face was unreadable when she glanced up at him. His arms crossed and uncrossed across his broad chest and he leaned back against the marble countertop, his gaze flicking about the room. "Okay."

"Okay?"

His gaze shifted and met hers, where she could see the fear and...was that regret? What did he have to regret? None of this was his fault. The fault lay on her father's shoulders, and he'd been dead for twenty years. "I mean, it's not okay. It really sucks...I'm sorry this is happening to you."

"You don't have to be. But I...I'm scared," she admitted in a whisper. Tears filled her eyes as she kept talking. "Does it hurt? Is it going to work? Am I going to lose who I am if it does?"

The floodgates opened and she choked out a sob, turning her face away from Steve and into her shoulder. In all the excitement and planning and rehearsing, she'd forgotten to process her emotions. She was indeed scared out of her mind. In two long strides Steve had crossed to her and pulled her into a tight hug. The plate she still held pressed awkwardly on her fingers, but she continued to hold it and cry, letting it all out on Steve's t-shirt.

When it seemed she'd calmed down a bit, Steve said, "You're going to be okay." Five words, and the air around them seemed to clear, like the seaside after a storm.

"How do you know?"

"Well," his tone lightened a bit and he leaned back to look her in the face, "Look how I turned out."

She smiled through her tears, "That's just what I need - to turn into a tall blonde Adonis." Her words were muffled as she dove back into his chest where she received a warm welcome. He relaxed his arms and stroked her back, soothing an ache she hadn't felt before.

"I just -" she said from his chest, pausing to make sure she phrased her next thought correctly, "I don't want this to change me. I'm worried that...that this will make our friendship awkward."

He pushed back from her again. She looked up into a reassuring smile that wrapped her in warmth.

"It won't. It won't change you, and who knows? Maybe it'll bring us closer." The statement sounded casual, but she caught a hint of hope in his tone that made her insides flutter.

"Closer than we already are?" she joked, glancing meaningfully down at their bodies - still pressed together, with Eliza holding the plate and Steve holding Eliza. He dropped his arms and a chill replaced where his arms had been.

"Yeah, something like that."

* * *

The next day Eliza went about her normal morning routine sans breakfast - much to her chagrin. Stomach growling, the elevator doors opened onto a flurry of activity in the hall she'd been in with Tony yesterday.

She led Steve down the hall, dodging the numerous people darting about. Most of them wore scrubs and stethoscopes, others wore jumpsuits and toted tool boxes, and she recognized a harried-looking Doctor Banner disappearing behind the door.

"Am I late to my own party?" Eliza asked the room as she entered, her comment going completely unnoticed in the room full of technicians, medical staff, and - she stopped when she saw him.

Nick Fury was down near the pod, looking up at her and Steve where they had just come in. Tony, who had been bent over a display in the control room with Bruce, took long steps to meet her on the catwalk.

"I know what you're thinking, and no, SHIELD is not involved. Fury just wanted to be here to observe," Tony explained, leading her toward the staircase that would take her down to Fury's level.

"Well now he's observed me with his prize super soldier, so I've got that ass kicking to look forward to," she muttered to her brother, hoping that Steve couldn't hear as he followed them a few paces back.

"Don't worry. Once this is over, you'll be able to kick Fury's ass yourself."

"Not helping," she retorted. They descended the stairs and she plastered a fake smile on her face to greet the Director.

"Captain, wasn't expecting to see you here," he said in a falsely light tone after exchanging pleasantries.

"I asked him to come. Since y'know, he's been through this before." Tony piped up, his hands in his pockets.

Eliza didn't get to hear the rest of the conversation, as Dr. Cho and her team of extremely enthusiastic nurses descended upon Eliza, checking vitals and prepping her for the procedure. Apparently this included putting on a thin white bra and tiny shorts that were little more than bandages. She took a look in the polished steel of the pod and couldn't help but think that if she had orange hair she could've passed for a pretty decent LeeLoo Dallas.

She stared at it for a good long moment, completely ignoring whatever else was going on and especially ignoring how chilly she was. Inside this pod, she would become what her father had wished, or she would perish. Steve had described the pain in cliches the night before, and she knew he was trying to spare her the gory details. He was kind like that. A warm presence at her back caught her attention, and she turned.

"It's time, kid," Tony said, his lips pressed together. "Jarvis, open the pod."

"Right away, sir."

With a mechanical whirr, the seemingly seamless pod opened right down the middle, like the two French doors at her house in the Hamptons. God, she wished she was there now. Anywhere but here.

She gripped her brother's hand as he helped her step up into the pod and turn around. He gave her hand a tight but brief squeeze, and a pair of hydraulic arms lowered over her torso. She let out a heavy breath, her nerves catching up with her, and found Tony's face.

He looked as nervous as she felt. Pale, with his lips all but disappearing as he tightened his jaw. But Eliza knew she would be the only one to see it, as his dark eyes were focused on strapping her in. He would put on the mask of bravado when he turned back around, but at this moment he was trying in earnest to let her know that she was not alone in her fears.

"I love you, Tony," she said quietly.

After he secured her last ankle restraint, he looked up at her and said, "I love you too, Eliza."

They hadn't said those words to each other in years. Of course she knew her brother loved her and vice versa, but neither of them were great at expressing their innermost feelings. The Stark siblings usually let their actions speak.

Tony's mouth quirked up into his usual smug grin, "It's me running the show, what could possibly go wrong?"

"Well, if I wasn't nervous before-"

"Jarvis, close the pod," Tony interrupted. Eliza chuckled to herself as the two doors closed in on her.

Then there was nothing but Eliza's breath in the darkness.

* * *

Watching her get in the pod made Steve cringe. There would be no injections, since she already stored the serum in her DNA, but he couldn't help but feel the prickle of needles on his arms and legs, the cold rush of fluid entering his body.

He was beginning to regret accompanying her when Tony patched her through into the PA system.

"Eliza? Can you hear me?"

"Loud and clear, brother."

"We're gonna start off low and slow, let us know how you're feeling, okay?"

"Roger that," Eliza replied, her voice sounding chipper even though Steve knew she was terrified.

A machine roared to life, and Steve and the rest of the crowd put their sunglasses on. Light glowed in the thin seams of the pod doors as Jarvis announced, "Vita-rays at twenty percent."

Some in the crowd murmured, and Steve turned toward Fury. "Why are you here, really?"

"I'm keeping an eye on an asset. Figuratively speaking, of course," the director intoned in a poor attempt at a joke as he turned slightly toward Steve, who bristled.

"Look, I'm happy to come work for SHIELD, but calling me an asset and meddling in my personal life-"

Fury turned to Steve fully, his hands in the pocket of his ever-present leather trench coat, "I never said you were the asset, did I?"

"Forty percent," Jarvis informed, and Steve looked from Fury to the pod. Sure, Stark was completing the project on his own dime for the benefit of his sister, but Fury clearly still had a vested interest in Eliza.

"How are you, Eliza?"

"I'm okay," she replied to her brother.

"You know she'll never go for it," Steve said to Fury, "She won't be a part of SHIELD."

"Sixty percent."

"Did you hear me say anything about SHIELD? Now why don't you shut your mouth before you start to annoy me," Fury deflected, waving a hand in Steve's direction. The super soldier turned back to look down at the pod, which was glowing brightly. Something in Fury's flippancy about the agency he directed didn't sit well with Steve, and just as he thought he would keep watching Fury out of the corner of his eye, Eliza started screaming.

"Vita-rays at eighty percent," Jarvis informed.

"Her vitals are holding steady, keep going!" Dr. Cho shouted from her spot at the computer terminal closest to the pod.

Eliza screamed as Jarvis announced the vita-rays were at capacity, and would hold there for sixty seconds to ensure total radiation exposure.

Steve gripped the railing in front of him. He knew what kind of pain came with those screams. Every muscle, tendon, cell crying out as they were torn apart and remade. Bones stretching and reforming. He wouldn't wish that pain on anyone - much less Eliza.

Forty seconds left.

The beautiful, intelligent, sarcastic Eliza who he had seen writhing in the worst pain of her life not a week before. All because of an experiment her father started, that led back to him. What he wouldn't give to switch places with her right now.

Twenty seconds.

Steve's heart thudded in his ears as he remembered the pain which he would rather forget, that he thought he would never share with another person.

Ten seconds.

The bars of the railing bent under his grasp with a sharp whine of metal. Without a second thought, he let go and pushed past the other people crowded on the catwalk and descended as the last ten seconds ticked away.

The pod doors opened with a sinister hiss, and Eliza slumped forward. Steve caught her with ease and lowered her to the floor as Dr. Cho and a few nurses surrounded them. Eliza's hazel eyes were heavy-lidded and she was soaked in sweat, her breathing heavy.

"Steve?" she asked weakly.

"How're you feeling?"

"Different," she said. She didn't look any different, except for the fact that her muscles were a bit more pronounced. The pod doors slammed shut and Steve helped Eliza to her feet. She was okay. She sat on a metal chair and Steve let the medical team descend upon her.

Out of nowhere, Tony Stark appeared at his shoulder. "You know, I was going to help her out of the pod. But of course you had to swoop in with your big broad shoulders and catch her like a knight with his fair maiden…"

"You got to help her in," Steve said, glancing at the smaller man, "I thought it was only fair."

"What is going on between you two?"

Steve turned and faced Stark, at a loss for words. What were he and Eliza? They lived together, sort of. They cared about each other, there was some kind of romantic attraction, but neither had acted on it. He decided to go with the easiest answer.

"We're friends. That's it," He insisted, glancing up at where Fury was watching from the balcony, but the man was nowhere to be seen.

Tony clapped the super soldier on the shoulder, "Alright, I'll shelf the shovel speech for now."

"The what?"

But Stark was already tending to his sister, who looked like she was in a daze. Someone had put a blanket over her shoulders and a glass of orange liquid that she held without drinking. Relief flooded him. She was okay, she would be okay. And she didn't have to go running after HYDRA right after her transformation.

Steve smiled at the thought, resolving to visit her later in the day, as he left the lab and made for his room. Although it wouldn't do anything to him, he wanted a drink.

* * *

 **There it is! Eliza's treatment! Will it have an affect on her? Find out next chapter!**


	10. I do, I do

**This is it! The last chapter of Part 1! Did you think we would ever get here? Well, it's not the end - far from it. I have Eliza's story plotted through Infinity War, and a crossover planned that will be obvious at the end of this chapter.**

 **However, it may be a while before I start posting Part 2. As I mentioned in the last chapter, I just applied to Grad School (still waiting to hear back, keep your fingers crossed!)**

 **Last chapter, I didn't have time to thank the Follower/Favoriters and Reviewers! Big thanks to darkest passion of love, katiesaysmerp, grywlf91, MangoAiko, mercedesandrea, makajo88, Akatsuki Cherry Angel, Khushbu22, dianaoctopus, LiliAnn Jackson, Daniellexx, doramayree, Brigitte uwu, thatmutegirl33, GeographicallyDisplaced, vader1982, and Sinner2016! And my lovely, lovely reviewers; LadyPorterfield, guest, and Brigitte uwu!**

 **Keep a lookout for Part 2: Heart Shaped Box, coming soon!**

* * *

Later That Evening

Eliza was asleep when Steve visited that evening. He figured it was for the best - he'd crashed pretty hard the night after his own transformation and chasing down a HYDRA spy. Instead of leaving, he took a seat next to the hospital bed Stark had brought in for the project. Distantly, Steve hoped that this would be the last time he'd have to see her in a hospital bed in a while.

She was resilient to be sure, and Steve couldn't help but admire that. Normal people would've fallen apart by now, but not her. Not Eliza.

Maybe he should've brought flowers, he thought as he looked around the plain steel-and-white room. The wall opposite her bed was entirely windows that looked out over the Hudson. Stark seemed to like a lot of natural light, he mused as the various medical machines beeped and whirred quietly in the background. The sun was just starting to set which lit the Hudson on fire with various orange and pink hues, and Steve got to his feet.

Why was he here? Eliza was asleep and likely to remain like that until the next day. A small voice inside his mind told him he wanted to be the first person she saw when she woke up, and he had to admit that gave him a warm feeling in his chest. To see her hazel eyes flutter open, hear her groggy voice say his name…

He looked out the window and tried to stifle the flicker of hope in his chest that things could go back to how they were between them. Friends. Just friends. Surely Fury couldn't object to them being friends, right?

He hadn't put much thought into the one-eyed director's presence that morning, but now that he had a minute to focus on it the ill feeling he'd had returned. Fury had mentioned he was "keeping an eye on an asset" but made sure to distance his comments from SHIELD. If he thought Eliza was an asset, but not for SHIELD, then for whom (or what) would she be an asset?

Steve glanced back over his shoulder at the sleeping woman and felt his chest clench. Something was fishy there, but he had no idea what. He needed another person to bounce ideas off of - maybe Stark could help? She was his sister after all, so he would definitely have an interest.

As Steve turned to leave he noticed the electronic displays around Eliza's bed flashing. A moment later, they went out completely and left the room a bit darker. He paused - the oddity set off a warning light in his brain. The woman groaned in her sleep and turned over.

Her face was scrunched up as if she were in pain as Steve approached the bed. She flipped over again, facing away from him and Steve heard a crash behind him. A metal canister of tongue depressors had tipped over on the table across the room.

"Eliza?" He reached out to touch her but she flung her arm out, and her IV stand went flying at him. He was lucky to dodge it, as the stand embedded itself in the wall behind him at about the same height as his head. The IV tubes had popped out and leaked saline and who knows what else onto the floor.

"Eliza!" he said louder, trying to rouse her from her sleep. The metal table, the swivel stool, and several metal containers were all floating now. Suspended in midair as if they were part of one of those art shows downtown.

Steve had seen some strange things in his life, but this was something else entirely.

"Jarvis, get Stark down here. Now," he said as calmly as possible. He didn't want to startle Eliza awake, lest something else come flying at his head.

Then Eliza let out a little cry, as if she'd stubbed her toe on something, and thrashed about in her bed. The containers went flying around the room, spilling their contents on the floor. The heavy metal table flipped over, its legs in the air, and the stool shuddered where it floated. Eliza continued to thrash, and her bed slid forward eight feet.

Steve didn't know what else to to but try to wake her up, but as he approached the bed again - careful to duck the floating hypodermic needles and other medical equipment - it shot forward and cracked the glass of a floor-to-ceiling window. He didn't notice one of the wheels was dangling out the window until he got closer, one hand on the plastic headboard and one reaching for Eliza.

"Eliza! Come on, you gotta wake up," he insisted, shaking her shoulder. This only seemed to upset her further, and she swung her arm at him again. He felt something heavy collide with his right temple and he reeled backward a few steps, slipping on something underfoot. He fell to the side and his vision blurred momentarily. Clutching his head he felt warmth spread down his face. When he put his hand to the wound, he pulled it back bloody.

The sound of metal grinding on metal brought his attention back to Eliza and her hospital bed. The other wheel had slipped out the window - or had Eliza pushed it? Not that it mattered, since the bed was sticking a good three feet out of the window. Another foot or so and she'd fall.

The wind outside the window whipped through the room. Eliza yelped and her knees buckled, sinking her toward the foot of the bed. Steve sprang forward, grabbing the plastic again and pulling backward with all his might. The bed moved backward, but one of the wheels caught on the edge of the building.

"Shit," Steve swore, pulling harder and hoping the screws in the wheel would give. No such luck.

At some point his palms began to sweat, impeding his ability to grip the textured plastic. Eliza was slumped against the foot. The only thing keeping her from a forty-some story drop was Steve and the foot of the bed. Her brown hair whipped around the twisted features of her face. Just as he was about to give the bed an almighty yank backward, a flash of red and gold appeared outside the window and hovered in front of them.

"Let me guess," Stark asked dryly, "this isn't what it looks like?"

"Would you just help me with this thing before your sister falls to her death?" Steve grunted.

Stark didn't move, "Did you try waking her up?"

"Of course I did!" Steve growled through gritted teeth. He really wasn't enjoying Stark's sarcasm at the moment; he felt like his arms were going to dislocate. What were the wheels made out of, vibranium? His head ached and tension radiated through his entire body.

"She's heavily sedated, Cap," Steve could hear the chuckles in Stark's voice and gritted his teeth. "But I suppose we should get her back into the - "

He didn't get to finish his sentence as an ear-splitting scream rang out from behind Steve.

"Dr. Cho, so glad you could join us."

"Stark, dammit!" Steve shouted. Eliza had shifted onto her stomach and Steve's insides wrenched with nerves.

"Oh, right, saving my sister," Stark said, disappearing from view as he got underneath the bed and pushed. Steve pulled, and less than a minute later the bed was safely back inside the room and Dr. Cho was rousing Eliza with an injection of something.

The brunette shot up in bed, hazel eyes bleary from sleep. They widened as she took in the broken window, the IV stand in the wall, and Steve's bleeding temple.

"What happened?"

* * *

The next morning Eliza joined Tony, Steve, Director Fury and Dr. Cho in an empty conference room. A hologram of her altered DNA hovered above the table as they debriefed from yesterday's project. She'd ignored what the others in the room had been saying. Bone tired and hungry, all she wanted to do was curl up in the ergonomic swivel chair and fall asleep. She was tired. Tired of being out of control of her own body, tired of hearing how special she was, just plain tired.

Absentmindedly, she let her heavy-lidded gaze drift about the room and it landed on the broad shoulders of the supersoldier sitting across from her. Dr. Cho had managed to patch Steve up rather quickly - she could barely see where the gash had been. When he caught her gaze she looked away, embarrassed. She'd thrown a chair at his head. A chair. While she was asleep.

What their conversation boiled down to was that instead of giving her super strength and speed and whatever else Steve had, the serum in her DNA had decayed enough to bring out a latent ability. A superpower. God, she hated how cheesy that sounded.

"So what's our next move?" Tony asked no one in particular.

Unsurprisingly, Fury piped up with, "She needs to learn control."

"Yeah, can't have her keep throwing chairs at Rogers in her sleep," Tony commented and Eliza flushed, keeping her eyes on the floor. She felt something in her chest rise up, and the hologram of her DNA floating above the table flickered.

"I know of a place. I can't get too specific, but it's safe, secluded," Fury explained coolly, with his usual detached air.

Tony leaned forward in his chair, "You think she's going to go to some secret SHIELD training camp? I told you, Fury, she doesn't want anything to do with your - "

"This place isn't even on SHIELD's radar. They have no idea it exists."

It was Steve's turn to chime in, "Then how do you know about it?"

"Am I not allowed to have outside interests?" Fury turned to his left to level a glare at the Captain.

"Sure you are, but this smells suspiciously like Ulterior Motive, a new fragrance from Nicolas T. Fury," Tony quipped.

"Who cares what my motives are if this place will help her?" Fury demanded, his tone intensifying.

"We don't know that for sure, all we have to go on is your word," Steve countered, his tone also intensifying.

What was he even doing here, she wondered. From hearing him tell it, she'd tried to kill him with an IV stand, a few needles, and of course the now-infamous chair. Why did he care what happened to her? The last few weeks between them had been tense and uncomfortable due to the revelation of Eliza's genetic predisposition, and after the project was finished she was nothing like him. All that worrying for nothing. Sure her muscles were a little more visible and she had an increased healing factor and stamina, but the whole controlling metal thing was probably not at all the result her father would've wanted.

The three men in the room began to argue. Loudly. Dr. Cho's calm voice interjected here and there, but she was staunchly on Fury's side. Apparently this mythical place could handle people with enhanced abilities. That started a whole new fight over why Tony and Steve weren't allowed to know where or what it was.

Annoyance and indignance made her purse her lips together. She should be having this fight; it was her life, her body, her special new power. And, to be honest with herself, going to a place that could help her control this new ability sounded, well...nice.

"I'd like to go," she said quietly. The others didn't hear her, so she said it again. Still, the four other adults in the room argued. She was starting to feel like Frodo at the Council of Rivendell. Too tired to get up on the table and scream for their attention, she focused on the pen in Tony's pocket. She meant to pull it out of his pocket and wave it around, maybe make it dance. Getting it out of his pocket was easy enough. As she tried to move it in the middle of the fighting quartet, however, she lost her focus and the pen flew out the window with a loud crash.

The glass of the window spiderwebbed and fell outward. Shattering glass made Fury, Tony, and Steve jump out of their seats, and when they realized there was no threat to neutralize they all looked at Eliza.

"Now that I've got your attention you can stop talking _about_ me and start talking _to_ me," she said, straightening her posture. "I want to hear the particulars about this place. Would you three give us a moment?"

She eyed the three non-decision makers. Dr. Cho was the only one to make a quick exit. Steve sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he left the room but saying nothing to her. Tony lingered the longest.

"You sure about this?" he asked, a hand on her shoulder.

She looked up into Tony's big brown eyes, "I'm just going to hear the man out."

"Okay," he said with a squeeze of her shoulder, "I'm right outside if you need me. And please refrain from smashing any more windows. They're quite a pain in the ass to replace."

When the door closed, Fury pulled a small metal device out of his inner coat pocket and placed it on the table, "To make sure we aren't overheard. Now what do you want to know?"

Now that Eliza had Fury to herself, her mind went blank. What _did_ she want to know? She thought for a moment before speaking up.

"Why do you want me to go to this place? Other than the seclusion, that is," she queried.

Fury's face remained impassive, giving nothing away. "The seclusion is a part of it. But there are others there, like you," and then he said a word that Eliza had never heard applied to humans before, "Mutants."

"What do you mean, mutants?"

"It's a school - I won't tell you exactly where right now. Let's just say, you're not the only one out there with special powers. This place is run by an old friend of mine. He takes in mutants, trains them to control their powers, and there's a man there with similar powers to yours. He could really help you."

"That sounds great, but why do you care what happens to me?"

Fury paused, pursed his lips behind his tented fingers. "Right now, Miss Stark, you are a danger to yourself and those around you. You need to learn to control your new abilities before anything else, even disregarding any work for SHIELD."

She couldn't exactly argue with his logic. The image of Steve's bloodied face and the fear she'd seen in Tony's eyes. She chewed her lip until she tasted blood. The other lingering question was how much she trusted Fury. How did she know he was telling the truth about this place? It sounded too good to be true, which usually meant it was.

"How do I know you're not sending me to some secret underground lab somewhere, never to be seen or heard from again?"

As if prepared for her question, he retrieved a manila envelope out of his jacket and slid it across the wide table at her. She opened the folder with trembling fingers and pulled out the photos while Fury kept talking.

"I don't care enough about you to lie to you," he stated. "But I do think that your best chance at getting a handle on these new powers is at this school. I'm merely presenting an option, I'm not forcing you to go."

The photos showed an old mansion, surrounded by lush green trees and grass - all impeccably tended. A class photo showed a bald man in a wheelchair positioned next to a class of kids, mostly in their mid to late teens, along with a few adults standing in the back. The kids looked normal, except for the girl with a long white streak in her hair and...was she wearing opera gloves? The row of adults included a man wearing a Geordi La Forge-like pair of sunglasses and a man - at least she thought it was a man - who was furry and blue like a stuffed animal.

They all smiled.

"That's last year's photo, a few of those kids have graduated, but the man in the wheelchair is Professor Charles Xavier. He runs the school and was a hot shot academic in the field of biogenetics. This," Fury indicated the next photo in the stack, "is Erik Lehnsherr. Xavier's partner in the school. He can control metal, like you can. Only he's been doing it for a hell of a lot longer."

"How much longer?" she asked absentmindedly, taking in the older man in a metal helmet. The rest of his clothing looked normal, a suit jacket and tie, and she wondered what the helmet was for.

"Look at how old he is," Fury said, gesturing to the photo again and Eliza accepted that answer. The man looked to be in his late sixties or early seventies, bushy eyebrowed and face lined with age.

"And you really think they can help me?" Eliza asked, looking up from the photos. Fury sat stock still, as if he would spook her if he moved.

"I know they can. But like I said before, this is only one option. You could stay here and have Dr. Cho and your brother try to help you figure this out. The decision is ultimately yours."

Eliza almost thanked him for that. Whereas Steve and Tony had argued with him on her behalf, making it sound like she would stay in the tower with them no matter what, Fury was giving her the room she needed to make her own choice.

And that made her choice all the easier.

"I'll go. If they can help me figure all this out...I'm on the next bus or train or helicarrier."

Across the table, Fury smiled. "I was hoping you'd say that. However, there is one condition."

"And that is?"

"You can't contact anyone outside the school while you're there. With your brother's technological ability, even heavily encrypted information is his to read. He'd be able to track you down and the thing about having a secret school for mutants is that it actually has to stay secret for them to stay safe. You'd be putting them all in danger if anyone found out where you were."

Eliza gulped, but nodded. Her throat was suddenly very dry. No contact with anyone she knew for who knows how long. It would be difficult, but not impossible. And everyone in the photos looked friendly enough.

"Do you still want to go?" Fury asked, collecting the photos from the table.

Without hesitating, Eliza met his one-eyed stare.

"Yes."

* * *

Her suitcase was open on her bed and she was haphazardly throwing everything she owned into it. Fury was taking her there tonight; she saw no need to delay considering how easily she'd lost control of that pen earlier.

Tony burst into her room, as he was wont to do. Steve followed and stood in the doorframe behind him.

"Are you insane?" Tony demanded, "You think I'm just going to let you go with _Fury_ of all people? After all that ranting and raving you did about him and SHIELD and -"

"If memory serves, Anthony, you did your fair share of the ranting and raving too," she said, moving from her dresser to the suitcase with her arms full of clothes. As soon as she set them down, Tony lifted them out and trotted back to the dresser.

"Really?"

"You're not going. We can figure this out together, I know we can!" Tony looked at her, eyes wild and practically spinning in two directions. How much sleep had he lost in the last few days?

"There are some things even you can't figure out, big brother," she replied, giving him a sad smile. Steve still hovered in the doorway, the look on his face unreadable.

"Not if you don't give me a chance! We just got this information and you're running out the door like someone lit your ass on fire," Tony said, tone rising and arms flailing.

Her heart lurched.

"I'm dangerous, Tony, I can't stay here." Another trip between the bed and dresser for her meant another one for Tony as well, unpacking what she had just packed. At this rate, she'd never be able to leave. But that was Tony's goal at the moment.

"Oh, Cap's fine, aren't you, Cap?" Tony looked at Steve, begging for an affirmation. Indeed, the gash on his temple was barely a scratch thanks to the doctor. Instead of taking the time to look, Eliza strode into her bathroom and collected her toiletries.

"Eliza, please, you can't just -"

"Yes I can! I'm not a little kid anymore Tony, I'm not some poor damsel that you need to protect, I'm your sister, a grown-ass woman who can make her own damn decisions! I don't know who I am anymore! Don't you understand?" She gestured and a picture frame on the wall behind him fell. "If I thought the revelation that I'm a fucking freak wasn't enough, now I can make metal fly around the room?! I'm dangerous Tony, I don't know the extent of my power and do you realize how much crap is made of metal? I'm a walking hazard, and I need to learn to control this...this thing that I don't understand and never wanted! Do you get it?"

Tony's gentle baby-bird handling of her and blase attitude toward all of her rapid changes was driving her up the wall. She knew without a doubt that he had her six, that he would always be there for her, but she needed her space to process everything that had happened in the last few months. Right now, leaving felt like the only way for her to get a handle on things.

Tony's resolve softened and he stepped out of her way, allowing her to dump her armfuls of hair products and makeup into her suitcase.

"Anything to add, Captain Handsome?" Tony asked quietly, looking to Steve. Eliza pointedly ignored the look the two men gave her and continued her packing.

Steve remained silent. Tony sighed heavily, muttered, "Fine," and left the room in a huff.

An invisible weight settled on her shoulders, forcing her to sit down on the bed, facing away from the door. She hated that she and Tony were parting on bad terms, wished she had time to make him some Tony Waffles before she left. What she said had hurt him, and he'd been hurt enough in the last few months.

The bed beside her sunk. "You're sure you want to go?"

Steve's voice was calm where Tony's had been anxious. His entire demeanor was different than her brother's; she could tell that he would accept her answer without push back. He truly wanted what was best for her and didn't think he knew better than she did about what that was.

She bit at the scab on her lip and nodded, keeping her eyes on the carpet.

Steve sighed, "Then I guess all I can say is...I'll miss you."

He sounded so heartbroken, like a whimpering puppy. She looked up at him, into his intensely blue eyes. Eliza knew she shouldn't, but she did. Steve broke their eye contact to look down at her lips, a smile forming. Neither of them seemed to notice the other moving closer until their lips were about to touch.

She could see the conflict in his gaze and knew exactly what he was thinking. He was conflicted, but they were so close, and she was leaving...

Eliza had settled that internal debate a while ago, and she was done waiting for him to make up his mind. Slowly, she brushed a hand along his strong jaw.

"I'd really like to kiss you now," she said, barely above a whisper, "May I?"

"Eliza…" he started before trailing off. Instead of kissing her, he turned his face away from hers. Eliza froze, red-hot rejection boiling in her stomach. Again she'd made a move, again he'd shot her down. Her hand left his face, turning cold at the lack of contact.

"Fine, I get it," she reacted, pulling away from him and resuming her packing. Crossing over to her bookshelf she selected a few titles she wanted to bring with her, freezing out all other thoughts. The metal alarm clock on her nightstand started to shake but neither of the adults in the room noticed.

She hated herself. If a few years of therapy had taught her anything it was that she shouldn't look for validation in others and that all things pass. Without a doubt, the sting of rejection would pass as well. But not before making itself known.

He rejected her because why wouldn't he? Weeks ago when she'd been a normal human being he denied her, but now that she was a genetic mutant freak why would he say yes? He said he hoped the final act of Project Renaissance would bring them closer together and yet here they were; in the same room but miles apart. Only now she was about to leave for who knows how long.

A small part of her has hoped that kissing him would help ground herself. That maybe she could find the Eliza Stark she'd been when they first met again, she had been lost for a while now.

She shook her head. What nonsense. Life was ever-evolving, always changing, and people changed much the same way. In all likelihood, she would never again see the carefree multi-billionairess college professor that she had been. No amount of stolen kisses would change that.

The alarm clock bent in half and tipped backward onto the nightstand. Still, neither person took note of the now Dali-esque clock. Eliza, too wrapped up in grief and self-anger, hugged the books to her chest.

"I'm sorry," she said in a small voice. "I wasn't respecting your boundaries. That's not okay."

"Apology accepted, but unnecessary."

His voice was much closer than she expected and she turned around to find him standing three feet away from her.

"Why unnecessary?"

"I didn't mean to stop you. It was a knee-jerk reaction to...everything. But Fury is going to be here soon to take you away. Carpe diem, he who hesitates is lost, that kind of thing," he said with a smirk. "So, if you'd like, you could try again."

In that moment, Eliza was thanking her past self in showing him _Dead Poets Society._ With one motion, he bent down and placed a warm, gentle yet firm kiss on her lips. Their second kiss followed swiftly, this time harder and hungrier as they realize show little time they actually had. His hands remained respectfully on her waist and hers had found their way into his hair.

This wasn't like kissing Garrett, or even Alex. She put the whole weight of her anxiety and stress of the last few weeks into it, and got back as good as she gave. Steve opened his mouth a bit, welcoming her in and her tongue grazed his bottom lip. She wrapped her arms tighter around his neck, her entire body pleasantly on fire. A little sound left his lips and he gathered her up in his arms, pulling her up his body so they were eye-to-eye and she was braced against him.

The alarm clock crumpled noisily and they broke their kiss, turning to see what the noise was. Steve kept his arms locked around Eliza.

She looked at the twisted metal thing - now resembling a discarded ball of paper rather than an alarm clock - and hid her face in the curve where his neck met his body.

After a second, Steve loosened his grip and let her slip down his body so her feet were on the floor again, but kept his arms around her. When she was steady on her feet, she dove back into the warmth of his chest.

"Hey," Steve said gently, "It's okay. It's not like that was my alarm clock anyway."

Eliza chuckled half-heartedly at his joke. "And Tony thinks I shouldn't go...what if that had been one of his suits when he was inside?"

Steve was silent, as if he hadn't considered that possibility. Eliza closed her eyes and relished the feeling for a moment - arms around her like a fortress keeping the bad thoughts at bay, a warm hand gently carding her hair.

"Miss Stark, Director Fury is here with his helicopter," Jarvis said, making Eliza jump out of her skin. They broke apart, but Steve didn't relinquish his entire hold on her.

"Tell him I'll be up in ten," Eliza told the AI, "I have to finish packing."

"Of course, Miss Stark," Jarvis said, leaving her and Steve in silence once again. Eliza let her head fall onto his shoulder and she took a deep breath as his arms wrapped around her again. He held her tightly, as if he were scared she would evaporate. God, he smelled good. The soft cotton scent of his shirt mixed with fresh air and a bit of coconut shampoo.

She'd give Fury her left arm to stay another hour like this. A moment later Steve placed a soft kiss in her hair and - quite reluctantly - dropped his arms.

In a flurry of clothes and books and unmentionables, she shoved as much as she could fit into the suitcase and zipped it up. Steve leaned against the wall next to her door where a poster had hung, waiting for her to finish.

"Well, I hate to kiss and run," she paused, looking at him a bit sheepishly, "But Fury awaits."

Steve nodded, reaching for her suitcase. She let him take it and led him over to the door of his apartment, but a hand on her arm stopped her from turning the knob.

"Wait," Steve said. Eliza turned back and he was standing over her. "I...I don't think I can go up there with you."

"Oh," Eliza said, not realizing how much she wanted him to say goodbye at the landing pad. She had also maybe deluded herself into thinking that he could come with her or she would stay or some other silly romantic notion.

He tipped her chin upward. "Don't get me wrong, I'm really glad that we, you know, kissed. But if I go up there with you I'm gonna ask you not to go and I know that you need to. So I'm going to stay down here."

It took every ounce of self-control Eliza had not to kiss him again. "I understand."

The elevator door pinged its arrival, and Steve placed a gentle kiss on Eliza's cheek. He lingered for a second, and said, "I'll see you soon, Eliza."

"Bye, Steve."

She backed into the elevator and managed a small wave as the doors slid shut and the cables pulled her upwards toward Fury and his helicopter and the next phase of Eliza Stark's life.

* * *

 **Leave a review!**


	11. Announcement Time

Hey Eliza fans!

I am happy to announce that I have posted PART TWO! It's available on my page, or in the Captain America category.

Thank you all for your love and support - it means the world to me! I've posted TWO chapters tonight, which is unprecedented for me. Although, finishing a story organically was unprecedented for me before Eliza came along, and a BIG part of that was due to all of you!

Go read Part Two and tell me what you think! Eliza's story really takes off!

XOXO,

Meghan


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